A Hunter's New Home
by AgeofDrag0ns
Summary: The Hunt is Over. The Moon Presence lies dead, and The Good Hunter has become the new master of the Dream. However, wanting to get away from the horrible place that is Yharnam, she has willed the Hunter's Workshop to a new realm. One filled with lustful Monster Girls and the humans who oppose them. I'm posting this on RoyalRoad.
1. Author's Note On The MGE Setting

**_Note: This was originally the 23rd Chapter of the story, but I moved it to the front on a suggestion from a commentor. Nothing has changed, but keep in mind that I didn't know any of this until after Chapter 22._**

**_This is a simple author's note that I felt needed to be said before we continue with the story. You don't have to read this if you don't want to, but I feel the future story events would make more sense if you do._**

**_I have recently been made aware that the MGE Setting went through numerous Soft Reboots that have changed the way the Setting currently is. There's a lot and I don't want to describe all of them. So, here are the ones that are pertinent._**

**_Mamono DO actually put romance above sex, and try to NOT rape men. There are still bad ones like the Werewolves that the Huntress killed, but apparently some can become "civilized" if they live in a city for long enough._**

**_It has been confirmed that the New Generation of Incubi will be born before the human race is outbred. At which point ALL the unmarried Mamono will switch to the Incubi over humans._**

**_The Seduction Spell is not mind control. It's a simple attraction spell._**

**_Even the most Yandere of Mamono refuse to rape a guy if he doesn't want it._**

**_The Extremist Faction took Lescatie because the place was led by corrupt people. Even their leader said she wouldn't have attacked if a better king was in place. The Faction itself goes around the place helping oppressed Mamono and Humans._**

**_There's more, but if you want it all, check this comment/thread: threads/monster-girl-encyclopedia-hammer-edition.628111/page-150#post-69317419_**

**_Why am I informing you of this? Because I feel like some people have begun to think that my version of the MGE World is the way the current setting is. It is not. The Setting has had numerous Soft Reboots to get rid of some of the bigger problems with it. Do not use my story as the baseline for how the Setting actually is._**

**_Does this mean I'm gonna change my story to fit this? Or that the Huntress is suddenly gonna turn and help the Mamono?_**

**_Fuck no._**

**_This story was written before I knew of the Soft Reboots. As such, consider this story taking place in the MGE world before the Soft Reboots became Canon. In other words, we're officially in AU/Alternate Timeline territory._**

**_To sum it up, my story is NOT a full on example of how the MGE World is. I am not going to be changing the theme/tone/story of the Fanfic to fit the Soft Reboots. And if you are really interested in learning more about the MGE World, do not use this as an example._**


	2. A Blood Soaked Field of Flowers

**I don't think I have to do this, but just in case:**

**I don't own Bloodborne or Monster Girl Encyclopedia, nor do I assert ownership in any way, shape, or form. Please don't sue me.**

* * *

The full moon shone beautifully over the silent forest as the wagon rumbled along the well-trodden road. The two horses were breathing hard as they galloped forward with small urgings from their driver. The man was well into his twilight years, his white, wrinkled skin contorted into a determined frown. He cracked the reins of the horses in desperation while scanning the treeline. Shadows danced along the edges of his vision, always darting away whenever his head whipped in their direction.

A small shriek made him whip his head to his right. He saw his daughter's eyes flitting about the trees, fear etched into her heart-shaped face. She hugged herself tightly, fingers bunching the sleeves of her plain, brown blouse.

She looked to her father, short black hair whipping about in the breeze, "Da! I s-s-saw something in the trees! Didn't you say they wouldn't follow us?!"

"Hush, Sandra! You're imagining things!" he tried to keep his voice as level as possible, not wanting to scare her more.

It didn't work, and Sandra's grip on her arms tightened, "No I'm not! I─"

Her words caught in her throat, her eyes went wide, and she stared at her father.

No, not at him. Behind him.

Her father swiftly turned around, catching a glimpse of orange fur disappearing into the dark foliage. Sultry giggles started echoing through the forest. They chased after the wagon, surrounding them, no matter how hard the man pushed his steeds.

Sandra started shaking her head and babbling incoherently, her fear turning into despair. Her father felt shame well up in his chest at putting her through this. The young thing hadn't even come of age, and already she was forced to leave her home behind. He kept his eyes glued to the road while his thoughts went to the ax he had lying in the back of the wagon. He didn't have much Mana left, but he'd sooner die than let those monsters have Sandra. As long as she gets away, all this would be worth it.

"Driver."

He'd have jumped out of his skin if the voice's tone wasn't so bone-chilling. His body froze up in fear before memory made him relax. In the hectic, uncertain atmosphere he had forgotten that they had a passenger with them. He slightly turned his head to keep one eye on the road and the other on the back of the wagon.

The guest had said nothing since they had fled from the fallen city of Lescatie. They simply laid in the back surrounded by boxes filled with supplies the driver had been saving up ever since the first monster sightings. Their body was covered by a long, thick brown cloak, keeping their features hidden. Their hood shifted as they started to rise from their position, but their back was towards the driver, preventing him from seeing their face.

The stranger raised their right arm, a hand pointing deeper into the forest. They spoke with the same, chilling voice, "There is a turn coming up. Take it and don't stop until you reach a clearing." They cut the father off before he could argue, "You would do well to take my advice. Lest you wish for our pursuers to catch us and abduct both your daughter and you, Kolin Descartes."

Kolin's eyes widened in shock at how the stranger knew his name. However, a blur to his left made him forgo questioning the stranger's instructions. Not like there were any better options. All he could do was hope this risk paid off.

It didn't take long for them to reach the clearing the stranger had mentioned. The whole area was covered with flowers. Reds, blues, and yellows all bent in the breeze as the wagon dashed into the flower bed.

"Stop once you reach the center," the stranger said while scooting to the edge of the wagon.

"What?!" Kolin shouted while whipping his panicked face around, "You can't be serious! We're done for if we stop now!"

The stranger's reply was uncaring and bereft of emotion, "If you don't your horses will give out on you. Then you'll have to go on foot, and likely without the supplies."

Kolin was about to argue, but the ragged breathing of his horses stopped him. He spent a large sum of his emergency savings on these steeds specifically for their stamina. He knew that a flight from Lescatie would be a long one, but he hadn't anticipated the monsters pursuing them so relentlessly. Cursing his naivete, he pulled back on the reigns, forcing the horses into a sudden stop. They both reared up and whinnied, before stamping back down with nostrils flaring in exhaustion.

"Why'd we stop Daddy!? Where are you going?!" Kolin ignored his daughter's pleas as he jumped down from his seat. Swiftly he went to the back of the wagon just as the strange dropped down to the ground. Only now did Kolin notice how large they were. He was a good six feet tall, and they towered over him.

The hooded stranger turned to look at Kolin, who felt a shiver go up his spine. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being sized up and evaluated, like a piece of meat at a butcher's shop. Worse was that he couldn't see the person's eyes or face, preventing him from gauging their emotions.

"You have done well, Kolin," the stranger said as they started to walk to the side of the wagon, "I shall take it from here."

"Don't go counting me out," Kolin grunted as he pulled himself into the back of the wagon. He found the ax and vaulted over the side with it in hand. The head gleamed in the moonlight, having kept its edge thanks to the nights Kolin spent sharpening it. It was heavier than he remembered, but he hefted it over his shoulder with ease. He straightened his posture while scanning their surroundings for any hint of movement. The horses' whinnies made him walk over to check on them.

He beheld the horses with their snouts in the stranger's gloved hands. The stranger paid him no mind, their attention firmly locked on the equines. The man saw two thin, black-gloved hands attached to long arms dripping with some kind of liquid. That was all he could see before the steeds were finished and the stranger quickly retracted their hands into the cloak.

They walked towards Kolin, "I gave the horses water laced with a special herb. They should recover and be able to run for two days straight. Grab the reins and run." They spoke quickly and quietly, but their words carried the weight and authority to not be questioned.

Unfortunately, Kolin wasn't good with authority.

"Now just hold on," he grabbed the stranger by the shoulder just as they tried to step passed him, "What are you playing at?"

When there was no reply, Kolin continued, "First you show up and ask to ride with me away from the city, then you tell us to come to this clearing that you somehow know about, then you give my horses strange liquids to drink, and now you're telling me to run away."

"I have done all those things, yes," the stranger didn't sound intimidated at all, "Is that a problem?"

"Damn right it is," Kolin wheeled around to stare into the hooded face of the stranger, "Why in the Chief Gods' name should I trust you? How do I know you're not leading me and my daughter into a trap?"

"You shouldn't and you can't," the stranger deadpanned, "But it's either listen to me or let the monsters catch you. Your choice. Besides that, I'm planning to stay behind and slow those creatures down. I'm sure you would rather risk a stranger's life than your daughter's."

The stranger shoved their way passed Kolin, who could only grip his ax in frustration. He couldn't argue with them because they were right. He didn't like it, but if the monsters were busy with the stranger then maybe he and Sandra could…

"Damn it," he bit his lip, tossed the ax back into the wagon, then lifted himself into the driver's seat. His daughter latched onto his arm as he took the reins, her eyes red from crying the entire time. He gripped the reins tightly before looking back towards the stranger. They were standing right behind the wagon, gaze completely focused on the forest beyond. Kolin shouted to them, "I don't know who you are, but if we ever meet again, I'll buy ya as many drinks as you want! Hiyaah!"

He cracked the reins and the horses sped off into the forest. The stranger didn't look back to watch them go, merely listened as the clacking of their wheels faded into the distance. They stood there for what felt like hours before they finally caught movement. Out of the corner of their eye, they saw a large shadow approaching them from the right. Two more appeared from the left and even more began to appear from the treeline in front of them. The stranger counted fifty before the shadows stopped stepping from the trees. They surrounded the cloaked human ensuring there was nowhere for them to run.

Any normal person would be trembling, looking for a way out, or praying to the Gods to give them strength.

As three shadows split off from the larger group and approached them, the stranger simply sighed in annoyance and frustration.

It would be another long night.

* * *

Of course, Het was the first one to reach the human. The orange furred Ocelomeh was every bit as wild as you'd come to expect from her species and wasted no time in getting close to their quarry. Elveta rolled her eyes, hefting her massive blade while sashaying forward. Her bronze, tattooed skin shone in the moonlight as she approached. She stopped right next to Het who was licking her lips while looking the human up and down.

Elveta placed a hand on her hip, making sure to accentuate her "assets", before saying, "Stopped running, have you? Told you we'd wear them out eventually, Het."

The catgirl nodded rapidly in agreement, "Yeah, but aren't we missing the man in the wagon? I wanted him all to myself."

"No need to worry," Nezzra, a Dark Elf, stepped to Het's right side. The rings in her ears jingled in the night air, "I'll send a detachment after them while we deal with things here." At Het's glare, she added, "With direct orders to not touch the man, else they have to deal with you. I want to take the girl. The thought of watching as she ravishes her own father...excites me."

The Dark Elf moaned, causing the gathered monster girls to start laughing at the thought of the debauchery that would soon be upon them.

That is until the stranger standing before them finally spoke.

"I shall say this but once," their voice seemed to echo across the entire clearing, reaching the ears of every monster girl in attendance. It was a dark, cruel, uncompromising voice that made even the most veteran members of the group shiver in fear, "Leave this place. The city has fallen. You have won. Return home and enjoy the spoils of your victory. If you do this, I will leave you be. But, if one of you so much as dares pursue the two people fleeing for their lives from your depraved machinations, then all your lives will be forfeit."

Elveta felt her combat instincts kick in, forcing her into a defensive stance. She scowled at the stranger trying to get an estimate of their prowess. The long cloak they wore prevented her from gaining anything concrete, but she had been around enough battles to recognize the pressure of an experienced combatant.

And this pressure...it was immense.

She hoped no one could see the hands holding her weapon shaking in excitement.

Het had felt the same, crouching low to the ground and hissing at the opponent, "You aren't in a position to be making demands."

"Indeed," Nezzra said, leaning on her staff while checking her carefully manicured nails, "I can tell there is no Mana within you. One strike from Het and you'll be on your knees begging for a good fuck. Sarash! Take a few harpies and go after the wagon."

Multiple squawks came from the amassed group of monsters before five feathered creatures took to the sky. They flew in a V formation, heading in the same direction as the wagon to cut them off before they got too far away.

They weren't even at the treeline before five loud bangs echoed across the field in rapid succession.

All the monster girls froze up as the five harpies fell to the ground with a thump. Blood began to pool around each of their bodies.

Elveta, Het, and Nezzra all stared at the dead bodies of their comrades with varying emotions. They turned to look at the stranger, only to see their cloak fall to the ground in a heap.

Nezzra was the first to notice the shadow that had fallen over her. She looked up and saw a figure silhouetted by the moon fall with a large blade in its right hand.

A scream died in her throat as the human bisected her straight down the middle.

With a sickening, wet tearing sound, the Dark Elf's body split into two. Blood spurted onto the stranger and the flowers as the body hit the soft ground. The human stood up to their full height. They wore pitch black clothes that hugged their body just enough to be protective, but not enough to restrict their movements. Their hands were covered by matching black gloves, with their hair hidden underneath a tricorn hat with a white feather in it. Though their mouth and chin were covered by a black bandana, all in attendance could tell the human was female. However, that was not what had captured their attention.

It was the long curved blade that she wielded. Its tip was long and thin, but it widened as you got closer to the handle. It sparkled in the moonlight with the crimson blood of Nezzra dripping from it. The strange woman quickly flicked her weapon backward, making the blood splash onto the ground behind her. Smoke rose from the barrel of a long, slender object she held in her left hand. Even the veterans among them couldn't remember a weapon like that ever wielded by humans. But, evidenced by the rapidly cooling bodies of their fellow harpies, they all knew it was dangerous.

Elveta felt anger replace the original excitement she had felt at the thought of a good fight. Memories of al the precious time she had spent with Nezzra flashed through her mind. Her grip on her sword tightened as a wild roar split the air, followed by Het leaping at the Dark Elf's killer. The feline drew her ancestral weapon back with both hands planning to put her full weight behind the strike. She smiled as the strange woman didn't react to her attack at all. Her blade came down and she braced for the impact with flesh.

Only for her weapon to hit the ground, knocking up flowers and dust.

Her head flew off her shoulders faster than she could recover.

The human stepped forward as Het's body fell to the ground while her head arced through the air sending flecks of blood across the field. The human walked leisurely as if being surrounded by a group of angry, lusting mamono wasn't even a threat to her.

Elveta's teeth grit in defiance of the conceited woman. She raised her voice so it could be heard by her whole battalion, "You fucking bitch! You'll pay this blood debt with your own body! Capture her and fuck her into the ground!"

* * *

'….Why are they always naked?'

The Huntress slashed through another monster, a dog/cat hybrid of some kind, causing blood to spray over her clothes. She felt the arcane power of her blood consume the foreign ichor, drawing it into her wounds. As they knit themselves closed, she dashed into the space the hybrid's death had opened up. Her weapon never stopped moving and everywhere it fell a creature would die. Horizontal bisection here, disembowelment there, the numbers meant very little to the wide arcs of her blade.

'They are at war. Wading into battle with nothing to protect you was foolhardy, to say the least.'

The flapping of wings made her frown and look for one of the larger monsters. She spotted a horned, red-skinned demon charging at her with a club as large as the Huntress' body held high. The Huntress waited for the weapon to come down before quickly jumping. She landed on the haft of the weapon, dashed forward, and used the demon's face to springboard into the air.

'Even a chainmail vest would be better than fighting nude.'

High above the brawl, she spotted four more harpies trying to chase after the wagon. With cold efficiency, she sighted down Evelyn and fired once for each monster. Loud bangs broke the silence of the night as the four more harpies fell to the earth below. The Huntress swiftly angled her body downward, as gravity forced her back into the melee.

Three foes, similar in appearance to the pointy-eared one she killed, held their hands out towards her. Multiple balls of flame shot from their hands towards her falling form. Grunting, she willed her firearm away and reached around her back to grip the folded, wooden shaft with her left arm. She slammed the sword onto the other side, unfolded the full length of the Burial Blade, and sliced at the approaching fireballs. They exploded in a dazzling display of crimson which she emerged through, completely unharmed.

'True, the Hunters fought Beasts with little more than reinforced leather armor. But Beast could cleave through even the toughest of metal with a single swipe. The best way to fight them was with speed, skill, and tenacity.'

The faces of the magic users contorted in fear just as the Huntress crashed into their position. With a single swing of her newly transformed scythe, they and ten more fell into the flowerbed below. The Huntress stood up straight, nonchalantly blocking a strike from the bronze-skinned woman who had spoken to her. The foe had good instincts, dashing backward just as the Huntress turned her gaze. But she was not good enough. By the time her feet hit the ground, the Huntress was already on her again. She brought up her sword to block the Huntress' horizontal swing, only to be left puzzled when her sword met wood instead of steel.

She figured it out a second too late.

'Then again, I have heard that these creatures do not wish to kill humans. Merely seduce and reproduce with the males. Their nudist preferences are likely meant to accomplish that.'

The Huntress dragged her weapon towards her with both hands. Her scythe's blade severed the monster's head from her shoulders, a guillotine execution.

'A fine tactic ...if their opponents are human.'

The Huntress kept fighting, her elongated weapon perfect for fighting large crowds, never stopping to clean her blade nor pausing for a breath. Eventually, only ten of the original fifty monsters remained standing. As the Huntress stood in front of them, the Grim Reaper come to life, they all dropped to their knees.

Another catlike creature shouted through tears in her eyes, "We surrend–"

A diagonal cut silenced her in an instant.

'But I'm not human. I am a Hunter.'

It didn't take long for the Huntress to finish off the weeping monsters. Only then did she cease moving. Her uncaring, black eyes surveyed the flower bed with indifference.

The carnage was immense.

Blood soaked the field, turning every flower there a dark shade of crimson. Intestines and limbs were scattered every which way, and the bodies continued to feed the soil with their ichor. A combination of the monsters' frenzied charge and the Huntress' attacks had churned up the earth itself. The stench of death and blood was so thick that it overpowered all other scents in the area.

The Huntress smiled softly.

She had accomplished her mission.

The man and his daughter were long gone, and the monsters had no way to track them.

She took a deep breath, sheathing her weapon on her back. She brushed a piece of a liver off her shoulder, wiped the blood out of her eyes as best she could, picked a direction, and began to walk.

The only witness to her battle was the full moon, staring down at the world like an indifferent god.

* * *

While the main body of the monster army celebrated their occupation of Lescatie, a detachment chasing down escaping humans came upon the carnage wrought by the Huntress. The news soon reached their superiors who immediately ordered a wide ranging search of the area. However, even with magical means, they could find no clues as to who was responsible for the massacre. Rumors and tall tales describing what took place began to spread. Some were exaggerated, others more realistic.

While none ever came close to the truth of the matter, the tales spread along the entire Frontier. Monster and human alike soon heard the tale of the "Blood Soaked Flower Patch".

Even if she was completely unaware of it, the Huntress had begun to spread her legend.


	3. Encounter In The Forest

Daylight reflected off the curved Burial Blade as the Huntress cut through some overgrown vines in a single slice. She pushed the branch they were hanging from up while walking deeper into the forest. The leaves and detritus covering the forest floor crunched under her feet as she made her way forward. She had long since left anything resembling a pathway behind. Firstly, it made it much more difficult for any monsters from the Fallen City to track her down. They'd likely have troops stationed in specific places to capture humans that managed to escape from Lescatie. One of the most likely places they would be is the main roads that lead directly to other, safer towns and villages. And the second reason was that she had no idea where she was going. This world was not her own, meaning any sense of direction she gained from Yharnam wasn't going to help her here. She'd have to start from scratch and figure things out from there.

Memories of attempting to solve Yharnam's labyrinthine design the first time she encountered it resurfaced in the back of her mind. She sighed in frustration, shaking her head while cutting down another obstruction of vines. The headache she got from the constant dead ends, loops, and locked doors were not something she was looking forward to reliving. Which is why she took it as a blessing when she encountered an old, gnarled tree. Its roots had been upended to the point that they formed a small alcove in the ground. The earth around it was uneven and slightly warped from a combination of natural elements and time.

The Huntress made her way to the natural niche, carefully stepping on the uneven ground. She crouched down when she reached the tree, leaning up against its trunk before moving into the alcove. Briefly, she thought of finding something to cleanse the inside of the niche before she moved in but swiftly rejected the idea. Starting a forest fire when she's trying to stay hidden was the last thing she needed. Thankfully, there wasn't much inside save for a few harmless species of fungi.

Satisfied with the accommodations she crawled inside and went as far back as she could without losing sight of the entrance. She leaned against the tree bark, set her Burial Blade at her side with her hand holding its grip, and started to close her eyes. She pictured the place in her mind long before her eyelids shut and her soul began to wander. At the back of her mind, she felt the same pull that she always did whenever she used the lanterns. A small smile appeared on her face as she felt her consciousness slip away.

* * *

Her eyes opened the moment she felt grass against her back. A foggy, never-ending expanse as far as the eye could see, stretched out above her. Long pillars were barely visible in the distance, each one tall enough to touch the sky. Pale white flowers shifted beneath her as she stood up. They spanned the entire fenced-in property, save for the obvious man-made walkways. She checked her clothes and nodded at how all the blood from her fight had disappeared. To her right was a tall building she recognized as the Hunter's Workshop. Gehrman's wheelchair was in the same place it had been since their battle, vines wrapping around its wheels. The Huntress took a moment to cut the weeds down with her Burial Blade before exiting through the open fence nearby.

A humming sound reached her ears as she exited the clearing. Her pace quickened until she rounded a corner to find its source. Kneeling in front of one of the many graves dotting the property, a small white cloth in her right hand and a bucket of water to her left, was the only one who remained with the Huntress after everything that happened in Yharnam. Her hand rubbed the wet cloth up along the grave, grime disappearing underneath her careful attention.

The Doll's hand stopped as the Huntress rounded a corner. She carefully placed the cloth onto the edge of the bucket. She slowly rose to her full height, her flower pattern dress and skirt flattening out as she stood. She turned to face the Huntress, her serene face impassive while she bowed deeply, "Welcome home, Good Hunter."

The Huntress broke into a short sprint before throwing her arms around the Doll. She hugged her only remaining friend tightly, feeling all the stress and worry she kept hidden melt away in an instant. With the closest thing to elation she could muster, she said, "It's so good to see you, Eve."

The Doll rested her chin on the Huntress' shoulder, "And it is good to see you safe, Good Hunter. How was your journey to this Waking World?"

"Mostly pleasant," the Huntress backed out of the hug while smiling softly beneath the bandana, "save for an altercation with some of the locals." She glanced down to see a small, bubbling hole in the ground near her foot. The familiar groaning of the Messengers heralded their arrival, three pale, malformed bodies crawling their way out of the ground. They raised their arms towards the Huntress in a display of happiness.

She bent down and started to pet the foremost Messenger, while looking up at Eve, "Mind if we go inside? I have a lot to say."

Eve bowed, "As you wish."

The two of them entered the Workshop, the lack of dust coating the interior a testament to the Doll's meticulous cleaning. Various weapons dangled over the workbench with the fireplace illuminating their shadows on the wall behind them. The blood-stained altar stood imperiously at the end of the room, and the storage chest remained directly to the right of the door. The Huntress stepped passed the large number of old books that littered the ground, Eve following close behind. The Huntress went to the empty chair across from the altar, sitting down with a sigh as the Doll circled to her right side. The Huntress removed her hat sending her red hair spilling out around her face. The long locks reached the back of her neck, something the Huntress dreaded. Long hair was a detriment during a battle, especially if the opponent managed to get behind her. She sighed at the idea of having to cut it again while pulling the bandana down from around her mouth, revealing her pale white cheeks and pink lips.

She leaned back in her chair and looked up at Eve, "There's a war going on. Don't have anything concrete, but it appears to be between strange monsters and humans."

When the Doll's eyebrows started to raise, the Huntress quickly said, "Not Beasts, something else. The Hunt hasn't followed us and it never will. Not while I draw breath." The Huntress' hands involuntarily squeezed the arms of the chair at the thought of a repeat of Yharnam.

She shook her head and continued, "Other than that, the world seems to be rather primitive compared to Yharnam. The monsters I faced seemed surprised at the sight of Evelyn, meaning firearms aren't common here. However, three of them shot balls of fire at me while I was fighting them. Seems they can use some form of the Arcane. Different from Yharnam, but dangerous and noteworthy."

Eve nodded along while grabbing a hold of the Huntress' hair with both hands. She plucked the ornament from her hair and began to comb the crimson locks, "Did you meet any other humans?"

"None save a father and his daughter trying to escape from a city the monsters were assaulting," the Huntress closed her eyes as the Doll went to work on her hair, "He gave me a quick summary of the situation before we set off. From what I could gather when I was escaping with them, the monsters don't actually wish to kill the humans. They instead wish to seduce or, if they resist, violate them in hopes of procreation or finding a 'husband' as they say."

She shrugged, "That's all I managed to glean from my short stay...it was short, wasn't it?" The Huntress leaned forward to allow Eve more room to work, "It's strange. I remember awakening in the city when it was under attack, and before that my battle with the Moon Presence. But...there's a gap in between those events." She placed a hand on her chin in contemplation.

When Eve finished with her hair she leaned back and let the Doll massage her shoulders. Her suddenly tired bones cracked under her friend's ministrations, making her smile with relief. She looked at Eve, "Something to worry about later. Little else to say. Now then, what should my next move be in this new, fascinating World we are in?"

Eve nodded at the Huntress, "I am glad you find this new World to your liking, Good Hunter."

"Why wouldn't I?" the Huntress began to count off on her fingers, "It's not Yharnam, there are no Beasts, it's not Yharnam, there are countless new things to discover, it's not Yharnam, I can meet new people here, and it's not Yharnam. The inhabitants might be a bit strange, but they are leagues better than the Yharnamites...so far."

The Huntress nodded her head, "But I need at least some vague idea of an objective before setting out. I am all too aware of the risk and dangers involved with wandering around aimlessly in unfamiliar territory." Her expression darkened as unpleasant memories of being ambushed by Beasts flashed through her mind. She rubbed her chin in thought, "How about this? I look for civilization, procure this world's version of currency, and find something or someone who can tell me more about the war?"

The Doll patted the Huntress' back, "If that is what you wish to pursue, Good Hunter."

The Huntress shrugged while leaning back in the chair. That's the best answer she would get out of Eve. She nodded before looking up at the Doll with her violet eyes, "Then it's settled. I'll leave...in a few more minutes." She leans back into the chair, feeling so many knots melt away under the Doll's skillful hands.

As she closed her eyes, Eve soothingly responded, "Of course, Good Hunter. Take as long as you need, and may you find worth in this Waking World."

* * *

The Huntress crawled out of the alcove into the open forest. The sun was shining bright above the canopy, its light creating patterns on the floor. Unseen animals and insects filled the woodlands with bellows and cries of varying volume. She stretched her arms out towards the sky, her bones popping as she walked away from the gnarled tree. She double checked everything on her person, stopping at the treeline before she started on her way. She didn't carry much considering she was in uncharted territory. Carrying too many items might end up a hindrance when none of them apply to the situation. Better to take only the essentials before committing to any particular loadout. Her Burial Blade, a secondary weapon, Evelyn, twenty Blood Vials, twenty Quicksilver Bullets, and the Monocular for scouting and observational purposes.

Satisfied with her equipment, the Huntress observed the forest around her. Bereft of anything approaching directional assistance she did the same thing she did when she got lost in Yharnam.

She picked a direction and started walking.

If it worked in Yharnam, why wouldn't it work here?

* * *

She couldn't have been more wrong.

In the orange hue of the afternoon sun, the Huntress cut her way through another patch of brambles and sharp vines. She stomped through the fallen foliage and took a moment to catch her bearings. She couldn't see any end to the forest in sight, all paths leading deeper in.

She frowned while continuing her stride, cutting down any obstacle with a single swipe of her blade. The situation wasn't completely negative. In her experience the deeper into an area you traveled, the more likely you were to find hints of intelligent life. Though, usually, the intelligent life she found was varying levels of insane and always attempted to kill her on sight. But finding creatures that wanted to kill her lead her to the correct destination ...eventually.

That hope in mind, the Huntress raised her blade to cut past another wall of hanging vines but stopped mid-swing. Her arm fell to her side, she stood up straight and listened to her surroundings. The cacophony of animal and insect cries had stopped. Instead, the crunching of leaves and soft exhalations of breath circulated her position.

She shook her head, quickly realizing what was occurring. She looked to the right and said, "I know you're there. Come out and let's get this over with."

Her voice was calm, but the authority behind it revealed her annoyance. It took a few seconds before her command was followed. From all around her figures stepped out from behind the trees. They had none of the features the monsters she fought last night did, meaning this was her first encounter with the humans of the Waking World. And judging by their ragged equipment, mismatched weaponry and armor, and rough appearances, they were the worst kind of people travelers could encounter on long journeys; Bandits.

They proceeded to close in on the Huntress, giving her time to count out their numbers. She could see at least eight surrounding her and hear one more hiding behind a tree nearby. She guessed the one in hiding was their leader, considering they hadn't come out with the rest. Meaning they were likely the brains of this gathering of chuckling fools.

The Huntress rolled her eyes as the gang stopped moving closer. Their formation was a simple circle, with any gaps blocked to prevent an easy escape. They attempted to look threatening by chuckling and brandishing their weaponry with vicious smiles. They kept this up until a whistle split the air. The laughter ceased as three of the bandits made way for the man who was hiding behind a tree. Unlike the rest of them, his auburn hair had much less dirt in it. He smiled smugly while brandishing a decently maintained spear in one hand. His armor had patches in it but was mostly intact compared to the rest who had pieces of armor strapped to certain extremities.

The leader, the Huntress guessed, tapped the end of his spear against the ground before speaking, "And what are you doing out here lass? All alone in the middle of the woods?" His voice was smooth and slimy, the kind that would make your spine tingle at how uncomfortable it sounded. The perfect voice for a liar and con artist.

The Huntress inwardly sighed, remembering a certain cowardly spider, before replying, "Traveling to the next town. But I seem to be lost. I don't suppose I could trouble you for directions?"

The bandits started to laugh while their leader placed a hand on his chin, "I know where you're trying to go, but I can't seem to remember exactly where it is. Perhaps something could refresh my memory?"

"If it is currency you're looking for, I'm afraid I have none," she saw a few of the bandits deflate at that, "nor can I give you any of the items on my person."

"That right?" the leader leaned on his spear, his eyes leering at the Huntress' body.

"Come on, Brugel," the bandit to his right, a beast of a man with wild unkempt hair covering his face, said while licking his lips, "let's just grab the lass and have some fun. We haven't seen any action in three months."

The leader, Brugel, smacked the bandit on the back of the head before turning back to the Huntress, "Pay him no mind, ma'am. But he does speak some truth. Information is not cheap, and if you can neither pay us nor give us any compensation...well we'll need some other form of 'payment'. It's simple business you understand."

"Or," the Huntress continued, raising her Burial Blade, "you could tell me, free of charge."

Brugel narrowed his eyes at the Huntress. "Careful there lass," he pointed towards the trees behind him, "Let's not be hasty."

"Those archers won't help you," she said to the surprise of the bandits around her, "before you ask, I could see the glint from their arrows. They'll be the first to go. Then you're men, and then I'll capture you and make you tell me what I want to know."

There was a pause as the highwaymen realized what was happening. Brugel's face remained unmoved for a few moments, before he shrugged, "Well, so much that plan." He picked his spear up and pointed it towards the Huntress, a cruel smile on his face as his men began to cheer, "Boys, knock her out and bring her home with us. By the time we're done, she'll be begging for mercy!"

* * *

"By the Gods! Please show some mercy!" Brugel howled as the big toe on his right foot fell to the ground in a bloody heap.

The Huntress looked up from his foot, her blood-covered glove holding a wicked-looking dagger she took off one of the dead bodies behind her, "But we've only just started. A man strong enough to have no qualms about threatening vulnerable young girls should be able to handle this much, right?"

She gave the hyperventilating man an innocent look, before turning her attention back to her work, "Now then, there are a few questions I have that you're going to answer. If you do not know the answer, make an educated guess. Please try not to lie to me. I'll know, and then I'll be very upset."

He whimpered and screamed as the Huntress proceeded to torture him. Nearby two of the archers watched in abject horror, unable to act with their arms and legs pinned to the ground by their own arrows. Their panicking eyes shot between the torture of their leader and the mutilated corpse of their comrades littering the ground.

After watching another toe fly from their Brugel's toe, they couldn't help but think the dead were the lucky ones.

* * *

The Huntress stood on a hill overlooking the town in the distance. Her arms were crossed over her chest as her eyes scanned the dwelling below. The bandits' information had borne fruit, and she found civilization just as the moon crested over the horizon. She smiled while lifting up a sack that jingled in the night air. She reached inside and took out one of the gold coins she found among the remains of the bandits.

'All three objectives completed in one day. Not bad.'

She returned the coin to the bag, tied it to her waist, and began to make her way towards the hamlet.


	4. A Mistake and A Job

Maggie wiped the sweat from her brow while her eyes roamed the crowd. Her wooden trinkets covered the stall she set up in the early hours of the morning. The easy to recognize items were at the front while all her original creations sat behind them on slightly raised podiums. She adjusted a few that were slightly off-center, smiling at the crowd the whole time.

One minute passed, she felt her smile fade.

Two more minutes passed, she started yelling into the clamor of the early morning market-goers.

Three more minutes and she was holding her head in her hands. Her smile had turned into a frown that wrinkled her plain features. She shook her head, short black hair following her movements, as she parted two fingers to stare at her merchandise. Memories of her labors made her hands throb in pain. She had stayed up well past noon to finish everything on display, set up her stall before anyone else had woken up, and even put on the only clean dress she owned. She had put her all into earning some gold for her family today, yet it was all for not.

She let her arms fall to her sides while gazing out at the other stalls in the market. Most sold food, clothing, or something else people would buy for practicality. But there were still plenty of peddlers selling obvious junk that customers stopped to buy. A tiny glass ball, some poor quality wooden swords, you name it.

People ate that stuff up, but no one batted a single eye at her handcrafted work! They wouldn't know quality if it stabbed them in th—

"Miss."

She quickly looked up at the sudden voice, her frustration fading as quickly as it came. She was filled with fear. She felt her spine shiver, her legs get weak, and the entire atmosphere around her turned cold and oppressive. She felt an urge to hug herself for comfort, yet the prospect of a single move being her last kept her perfectly still.

The...stranger stood in front of her stall, one of the wooden statues held in her hands. Her black gloves matched the rest of her clothes making her more intimidating than her height already did. Maggie only came up to her chest with the stranger's body blocking out the sun. The stranger's breasts were barely noticeable beneath the restrictive clothing she wore, but if she was bothered by this she didn't show it.

The stranger's sharp, yellow eyes turned to look directly into Maggie's. The stall owner yelped in unconstrained fear with her body shaking under the gaze of the strange woman. The woman picked up two more statues before speaking again, "How much?"

Maggie's eyes darted around the market, looking for a guard or anyone who could help her here. Thankfully, a few people had stopped to stare and whisper at the event happening at her stall. She saw someone break from the crowd towards the entrance gate which filled her with a small sense of relief. She gulped again before stuttering out an answer, "T-th-thirty."

She preemptively flinched as the stranger brought up her right hand. Maggie shut her eyes involuntarily as the hand came down and...nothing happened. Cracking one eye open revealed the stranger's fist held out with her wrist held up.

Maggie slowly opened her eyes, her pupils flicking between the stranger's wrist and her covered face. The stranger followed her eyes the two of them becoming locked in an awkward "dance" of sorts.

It was a few minutes before the stranger's eyes shot open in surprise. She pulled her arm back while hastily saying, "Oh, yes! You mean thirty...thirty gold coins, correct?"

"Y-yes," Maggie didn't know what else to say. One minute the customer almost gave her a heart attack, now she was hastily reaching into her coat. The bag she pulled out jingled as she reached in to take out the gold.

Maggie could've sworn the stall shook when the stranger placed the coins down. The two of them clumsily gathered up their respective items at the same time. Maggie stood up with the gold coins held in her arms, desperately trying to keep a smile plastered on her face, "Th-thank you for your purchase!"

"Y-you are very welcome, Miss!" the stranger shouted back while backing up into the crowd. The townspeople made way as she disappeared into the crowd just as two guards appeared. The moment they did Maggie felt her legs give out. She fell to the ground with the coins still in her shaking arms.

As the guards began questioning everyone she started mumbling to herself about looking for better employment.

* * *

'Stupid, stupid, stupid!'

The Huntress did her best to keep her appearance neutral. She kept her presence as minuscule as possible to blend into the crowd around her. She matched her pace with the citizens, tilted her head down, and kept her arms at her sides.

'Why did I do that?!'

She felt her hands start curling into fists, feeling the wooden texture of the statues in her right hand. She placed the trinkets into a coat pocket to protect them while moving with the crowd.

'Of course she meant the coins! What else would she mean?!'

The Huntress resisted the urge to slap herself, instead vigorously shaking her head at the huge mistake she made. Various peddlers attempted to get her attention as she passed them by, but even the most persistent couldn't stop her from marching onwards.

'The plan was to go up to her, strike up a conversation, and get to know her! Connect with someone in this New World that can guide you, help you, and maybe even become friends!'

The Huntress unconsciously dodged around a woman carrying a basket filled with produce, while the memory of her failed attempt at conversation kept replaying in her mind. Eventually, she shrugged.

'Oh well. I'll just have to try again...

'...where the result will be the same.'

The thought made her freeze in place. Her eyes widened as her head swiveled around, taking in the whole area surrounding her. The buildings that were nowhere near Yharnam in terms of structure, the people who wore modest clothes and went about their business as if a war wasn't literally happening right outside their walls, the one or two guards who would be posted up on the corners of the street, and the way people spoke to each other in an easygoing, carefree manner. All of it coalesced in her mind into a single question: How could she communicate with these people?

She didn't want it to be true but that "exchange" made it completely evident. The horrors she witnessed in Yharnam weren't as easily forgotten as she wished. She may have gotten out of the city alive, but she did so a changed woman. She had forced herself to be quiet, withdrawn, and taciturn while fighting her way through the Night of the Hunt. It was the only way she could survive. And every time she opened her heart to someone, they either died, went insane, tried to kill her, or a combination of the three.

Thoughts of fellows lost to the horrid Night flashed through her mind as she felt the world begin to recede around her. In its place were cold, oppressive shadows that swallowed up everything they touched. The town, the people, all were devoured by the darkness until she was alone in a sea of black.

She didn't break her stride.

'You built yourself into an unfeeling machine in Yharnam.'

Her footsteps echoed in her ears.

'Do you truly believe you can overcome that within one night?'

She could hear her teeth grinding against each other.

'Cease this farce. You know what you are.'

Her heart beat faster, and faster, pounding against her eardrums as her fist clenched so tightly she could feel her nails ripping through the silky gloves.

'You're a killer. A Hunter. And a Hunter must—'

The Huntress punched herself in the face. Hard.

Her surroundings returned to normal as she righted her head. She rubbed her chin with her left hand, swallowing any blood that came from the strike. A few people had stopped walking to observe her but they soon moved on with their heads down when her gaze shifted to them. She sighed while placing a hand on her forehead, looking around to find a place to rest. She needed some time to get her thoughts in order before moving on.

Her gaze fell on a square, wooden building to her right. Loud voices came through the two open windows next to the entrance door. Right above it was a wooden sign that displayed a mug filled with what the Huntress guessed was alcohol.

'An inn. How convenient.'

She straightened out her clothes, took in a deep breath, then proceeded to walk towards the door.

* * *

"Are you fucking insane?"

Jet flinched at the question. He felt sweat trickle down the back of his neck, half from the heat of so many people gathered together in the inn and half from the stone-cold glare from Sentinel's solid grey eyes. The bald, beast of a man called for another three tankards of ale, his slightly baggy brown tunic bunching up around his muscles.

Jet gulped audibly, placing his hands on the table while forcing a weak smile, "Come one, Sen. Don't be like that. The job's easy, promise."

"That's what you said about the last one," Sentinel scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the thinner man.

"And we finished it easily."

"No, me and Blitz finished it. We had to rescue you from the Succubus you were 'comforting'." The man's eyes scanned the room to ensure no heads had been turned towards them at the mention of a monster.

Jet's reply died in his throat as the barmaid came by with their drinks. His eyes were glued to her chest as she set the foaming cups on the table. He followed after her as she walked away, blood rushing somewhere other than his head. A sharp pain shot through his right leg, making him jump up and hit his knee on the table edge. A short burst of laughter came from the patrons close enough to see his blunder.

He nervously waved to the chuckling people, before turning his head to glare at the third member of their group. At the back of the booth, in between Jet and Sentinel's seats, was the diminutive form of Blitz. The girl had her head down, her sun hat blocking her expression as she reached forward and grabbed one of the tankards with a small, calloused hand.

Jet pushed a hand through his curly brown hair while leaning back in his seat. He turned to Sentinel, "And the three before that went off without a hitch, didn't they?" Neither Sentinel nor Blitz replied, causing Jet's grin to get wider, "I thought so."

Sentinel grunted in reluctant agreement, chugging his ale so fast the foam got into the grey beard covering his chin. Jet joined him, drinking at a slower pace to keep his faculties sharp. The cool liquid felt refreshing as it hit his stomach, making him sigh thankfully when he was finished. He scratched at his collar still not used to the leather jerkin he was wearing. His sharp, green eyes swept the room as he spoke, "I can see why you're worried though, Sen. This job isn't our usual fare."

"We're bounty dogs, Jet," Sen sighed while slamming his tankard on the wooden table making it shake, "people hire us to kill a monster, we find it, we kill it, and hope the Order doesn't send any inquisitors to stomp us out." The stare he directed at their leader was hard as a rock, "We don't do rescue missions."

Jet raised a finger in protest, "Ah, but we do do large sums of gold as compensation for risking our lives. And that's exactly what our client is offering. Plus, it's all under the table. The Order won't know a thing."

Sen scowled, scrunching up the scar across his left cheek, but proving that he was starting to come around. The bulky man crossed his arms, "I suppose you have our client's guarantee on this? And that they know what we're likely to find?"

Jet nodded along with the questions, "Yes and yes, my overly cautious friend. But our client truly hopes in her heart of hearts that her precious child is still alive and well."

"I say we go for it," Blitz pushed her now empty tankard to the center of the table. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table. The pearl white skin of her arms contrasted with the slight bulge of muscle beneath it.

"I've been keeping an eye on our funds," she spoke with a voice devoid of mirth and laughter, "between food, getting our equipment fixed, travel, and donation to the Order, we're going to be broke in three days. How much is she paying us?"

"Three-hundred thousand," Jet wiggled his pinky as Sen whistled at the extravagant reward, "How long will that keep us for, Blitz?"

Blitz took a moment to reply, "If we're smart, 5 years. If not, 3 or less."

"Well, Sen, what do you say?" Jet placed his tankard on the table, scratching his slightly crooked nose, "You in?"

Sen scowled at his friend for a few minutes. Then he sighed while shaking his head with a smile, "Sure, why not? Not like you two could do it without me anyway."

"What makes you say—," the feeling of two glares burning into him made Jet cut his question short. He heard the door to the inn open, looking out the corner of his eye to see who came in. It was difficult at first due to the dark lighting of the booth they were in, but he managed to catch a glimpse of a figure making a b-line towards the bar. Jet made a note of them and turned back to his two companions.

"So, what will we be up against?" Sen leaned in closer, lowering his voice to prevent curious ears from listening in. Blitz did the same, holding her hat up with one hand to prevent it from falling off.

Jet looked between the two of them, leaning forward while licking his lips, and spoke, "According to our client, the day her son went missing, was the same day they heard something about a pack of Werewolves near here."

"Werewolves?" Sen whispered as his eyes went wide, "As in more than one?"

"One monster is enough trouble," Blitz replied, "But we can't take on a pack. Especially one that got a Hero. Do you know how many there are?"

"Not...exactly," Jet felt more sweat fall down his neck.

"And you didn't mention this before, why?"

Jet chuckled nervously, "Because I...figured you two wouldn't want to take the job then. But come on! Three-hundred thousand gold! You said it yourself, Blitz, we'll be sitting pretty for a long time after this."

"That's if we manage to come back," Blitz corrected, "The three of us can't handle a pack of monsters."

"She's right, Jet," Sen said while tapping a finger on the table, "My magic will help, but if we get overwhelmed then…."

Jet could feel his friends' drive waning, along with the reward slipping through his fingers. He briefly remembered his time living in the slums, surviving off scraps until Sen found him. His eyes darted around the inn while his mind raced to find something he could use to convince them. His gaze fell onto the bar..and the form of the newcomer sitting there.

"What if," he began, his mind working overtime to make his suggestion sound convincing, "we recruit a new member?"

"What?!" Blitz and Sen looked towards each other then back at Jet.

Jet continued, "You're right, the three of us would be no match for a pack of monsters. But four of us…"

Jet looked towards Blitz, knowing she'd be the first to understand him. She paused for a bit before answering, "It...would improve our chances. How much depends on how skilled the recruit is. And we'd have to split the reward, but even then that's seventy-five thousand each."

"So?" Jet smiled as his vision of the gold started reforming.

"...It's worth a shot." Blitz concluded after a few minutes of silence.

Jet looked to Sen, who simply shrugged, "If Blitz says it's ok then I suppose…"

"Then it's settled!" Jet clapped his hands and quickly stood up from his seat, "I've got just the person in mind." He moved before either of his comrades could raise any objections, heading straight towards the newcomer sitting at the bar.

Sen sighed while watching the young man take a seat next to a black-clothed stranger at the bar. He leaned back in his seat and looked towards Blitz, "Well, Blitz. What do you think?"

She answered the big man in a matter of fact tone, "I think we're walking into something that we shouldn't be. Another member might mean more firepower, but it also means someone else who could blab to the Order. We'll have to be on guard until we're sure whoever Jet brings can be trusted."

Sen nodded picking up his tankard as Jet came back to the table with the newcomer in tow. Both he and Blitz watched as Jet gestured to the stranger, "Sen, Blitz, allow me to introduce our newest member!"

The newcomer bowed slightly, her voice high pitched yet low, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I look forward to working with you all."

Blitz simply nodded while Sen kept his eyes on the newbie. His brows furrowed as his eyes roamed her body. The same question kept ringing through his head as Jet scooted into his seat with her following suit:

'Why can't I sense any Mana from this girl?'

He briefly thought of bringing it up, but as Jet began to explain the situation, he decided to forget it.

He was probably just getting old.


	5. The (Bounty) Hunters Set Out

"Good Hunter," Eve watched as the Huntress opened the storage chest near the door, "is something wrong?"

"Not at all, Eve," the Huntress shook her head while rummaging through the box, "I'm just grabbing equipment for an excursion I joined."

The Doll walked over to the Huntress' side, kneeling down to look her in the eyes, "Then you have found success in your endeavors outside the Workshop?"

The Huntress nodded while lifting a molotov from the chest, "Indeed. A group of bounty hunters was scouting for a new member, and their leader came to me. I introduced myself to the group and they told me about the current job we've got. Rescuing someone from a pack of werewolves. How many blood vials do you think I should take?"

"'Never underestimate any opponent you encounter'. Following Ghernam's advice has kept you alive and well thus far," Eve replied while straightening her skirt.

"Technically, I taught myself that after I died to the same ambush five times in a row," the Huntress smiled at the memory of the First Hunter, her mentor, "You're right, though. Just because it's been easy so far, doesn't mean it will be forever. Twenty it is."

The Doll's head tilted in wonder as she beheld the Huntress' face, "Good Hunter. Your spirits seem brighter than they once were."

"Really?" The Huntress shrugged while counting the number of quicksilver bullets left in her bag, "I suppose I'm just excited. Fighting alongside others after so long is a wonderful prospect. Comrades I can work with, succeed with, and connect with have been in short supply. It's nice to experience it again."

Her eyes scanned the inside of the chest before settling on a few brown, glass bottles. She reached for the sedatives, grabbing five and placing them into one of the six pockets close to her hands, "Their names are Jet, Sentinel, and Blitz. Those aren't their real names, plainly, but I don't expect them to give me that level of trust straightaway. I am a stranger after all. However, I did manage to gain some more knowledge on the workings of the Waking World thanks to them."

"Truly?" Eve tilted her head questioningly.

The Huntress nodded, placing a hand on her chin as she started to speak, "They were completely stunned when I showed them the Burial Blade. None of them had ever seen anything like it, meaning this land has no Workshop or equal smith working. They haven't mass-produced gunpowder weapons either, judging by the reactions Evelyn elicited."

She brushed away some stray hair that fell into her eyes, "That part is understandable, because they have something that Yharnam didn't; Magic. Specifically, they can draw on powers similar to the Arcane without the use of trinkets or fetishes as we did, and are not limited to only using the power of the Stars. Summoning the power of the natural elements, physical augmentation, and more is within their grasp. My observations have lead me to conclude it is not as powerful as the Arcane but its versatility makes up the difference. Ah!"

The Huntress withdrew the Hand Lantern from the chest and clipped it to her hip. "Just in case," she said while adjusting her body to sit more comfortably, "Sentinel told me all this. He's a mage, meaning he has more Mana than most people and can use magic more often. Mana, or Spirit Energy, is something all the humans in the Waking World have. It's their life force in a way where if someone runs out of Mana, then they're a sitting duck for the monsters who feed on that Spirit Energy."

"These monsters," Eve began, "how are they different from the Beasts?"

"They don't hunger for Blood for one thing," the Huntress' eyes narrowed as she remembered what Blitz had told her about the monsters, "Instead they eat the Spirit Energy of humans using their...sexual fluids. Males are a favorite due to how they produce an almost limitless amount of Mana at all times." She shook her head in disgust and anger. The Beasts and Kin were terrifying to be sure, but at least they merely killed you. They never purposely left you alive to violate you until your mind broke, turning you into nothing more than a sex puppet, "Women, on the other hand, draw Mana from the environment. This puts them at risk as the monsters will find ways to coat them with corrupted Mana, turning them into another monster. Which leads me to the most important thing I learned from the group."

She double-checked her inventory, before grabbing the lid of the chest and closing it with both hands. She stood up and spoke without looking at Eve, "The humans are losing this war."

* * *

"This way, quietly," the Huntress crouched low to the ground, holding up her right hand. She waves it forward before setting off deeper into the foliage in front of her. The sound of three sets of footsteps followed closely behind her. Jet and Sentinel soon came up on her left and right side. Jet's crossbow was empty, but his hands gripped the weapon with a deftness and grace that only experience and practice can bring. He wore a brown leather gambeson with matching pants, a quiver of bolts strapped to his back. Posture relaxed but eyes sharp, he scanned the forest for any sign of a threat. He spotted the Huntress observing him and sent a wiry smile her way. She chose not to react and turned to Sentinel.

The large man had his head towards the ground, eyes closed while he muttered something under his breath. He wore heavy white and red cloth robes that covered his immense frame. His grayish brows furrowed, his lips curled up in frustration, then he scoffed before opening his eyes.

"Any luck there, Sen?" Jet looks over at the old Mage while stepping over an ant mound.

"What do you think?" Sen shook his head, "Divination's been getting harder and harder for me everyday. In a few years I won't even be able to see the Mana in the air anymore."

"Don't count yourself out yet, Old Man," Jet waved at the Huntress, "Besides, Hunt's been doing well leading us so far."

The Huntress shrugged, slight chagrin at the nickname they gave her, "Anyone experienced with tracking down an animal could follow their trail. Look here," the Huntress held up a hand while kneeling down to the ground. She dusted a few stray leaves out of the way, revealing multiple footprints in the shape of wolf claws. She examined the dirt with discerning eyes, "These tracks are still fresh. We're getting closer."

"Good," the sound of metal shifting around made the Huntress ease to the left as Blitz marched to the front of the group, "Let's get this job over with."

"No need to be hasty, Blitz," Jet said while moving to catch up with the girl.

"Say that when you're the one carrying the heavy equipment, Jet," Jet flinched as Blitz lifted the tower shield and heavy lance she carried. She rolled her eyes as Jet focused his towards the ground.

The Huntress squinted her eyes at Blitz as Sentinel made to catch up with her. She was the smallest of the group, her thin body making her look younger than she really was. Her fair white skin, flexible body, baby-like face, and pink, curly hair, didn't help to prove otherwise. A stark contrast with the equipment she carried. Her shield, wide and tall as Sentinel, was only matched by the heavy lance she wielded. It would give a well-trained knight trouble, yet Blitz handled it like it was second nature. The crimson gambeson she wore went down to her waist, and was clearly better maintained than Jet's. To the Huntress, Blitz represented the proverb that "looks can be deceiving".

There was just one issue.

The Huntress' frowned as she walked up to Blitz's side, her eyes focused on Blitz' completely unprotected legs. A single, thigh length, pink skirt barely covered anything at all. Her only other articles of clothing were her two, brown traveling shoes. Other than that, she had nothing to protect anything below her waist. On top of this, she had two buttons in her gambeson unbuttoned. Which wouldn't be a problem if the open area wasn't the center of her chest. Which, to the Huntress, was a weakness any dangerous enemy would not hesitate to exploit.

Blitz's light gray eyes moved upwards to meet the Huntress' gaze. Her voice did little to mask her annoyance, "Didn't your parents teach you that it's rude to stare, Hunt? If you've got something to say, say it."

"Why don't you have on any leggings?" the Huntress cut straight to the heart of the matter, "Nor completely button up your armor? Leaving even a single part of your body uncovered could lead to serious injury during a battle."

The Huntress did expect to get a strange look or two from Blitz for asking the question. What she didn't expect was for Blitz, Jet, and Sentinel to stop moving and look at her as if she had grown a second head. She shrugged at them in response, pointing out how it was a valid question.

Blitz stabbed her lance into the ground and leaned against it, "Let me try to answer not just your question, but whatever reasons you might have for them. First, I can move around better like this," she hopped from foot to foot to emphasize. "Second, I like the cool breeze on my legs," a hand waved at the indicated appendages. "Third, if I button up all the way I can't breathe. Fourth, and this is the important one, cause armor doesn't do shit against monsters."

"The first three aren't answers, they are excuses," the Huntress didn't let up, "personal taste and comfort is secondary during battle, and useless when it concerns the safety of the entire group. For the fourth, I have faced monsters before. They do not seem to carry anything that can do serious damage to protective clothing."

Blitz's face turned from an annoyed stare to an angry frown. Sentinel's palm hit his face as Jet looked between the two women with a worried look. Blitz sneered, "Listen here, rookie. Just because Sen and I spent the time to teach you how things work around here, don't go thinking you get to tell me how I do my job. Actually," Blitz stood up and walked forward until she was chest to chest with the tall woman, "where did you say you were from again? Because you sure don't act like someone who just found out what Mana was yesterday."

No emotions passed over the Huntress' face as she matched the girl's glare. It was unsurprising that Blitz was the most suspicious of her. Sentinel had called her the band's "babysitter" for how she handled most of the logistical aspects of their operation. They didn't want it to be the case, but Sentinel was getting along in his years and Jet's upbringing didn't allow him much time for a formal education. Which meant it was up to Blitz to be the pragmatic one of the group.

In some aspects a blessing. In others a curse.

The Huntress knew this all too well.

Neither woman moved an inch, each waiting for the other to blink first. It took Jet literally stepping between the two of them to stop the conflict, "Now, now, ladies. Calm down. We are on a mission here. Hunt, why don't you and Sen go find our target? Me and Blitz will catch up."

The Huntress and Blitz shared one last look over the thin man's shoulder, before the Huntress turned away to follow Jet's suggestion. An argument at this point would only worsen the group's cohesion. Not to mention possibly reveal details she'd rather keep hidden.

The Huntress nodded with Sentinel as they set out to follow the tracks left by their quarry. Once they were far enough, Sentinel sighed while scratching the back of his neck, "Don't let Blitz get to you, Hunt. She'll come around soon enough."

"No," the Huntress shook her head, "she's right to be mistrusting. I am a stranger. I overstepped my bounds to criticize her choice in attire. I do not regret nor detract my statements, but I understand they were inappropriate. I must ask, however, why did she choose such a revealing outfit?"

"What do you mean?" Sen tilted his head in confusion.

"I mean why does she wear a skirt so short that it would reveal her undergarments while she fights, and allow enough of her breasts to show that it would hurt her during combat?" The Huntress felt she was pointing out the obvious, but the confusion on the large man's face didn't fade.

"Hmm" Sentinel placed a hand on his chin, "can't say I really understand what you're getting at, Hunt. Blitz always dresses like that, and she hasn't had trouble fighting so far."

The Huntress rolled her eyes, choosing to drop the subject matter as she was getting nowhere. She turned her gaze to the large man while pushing a stray branch out of her way, "If anything, you and Jet shouldn't be so trusting of me, Sentinel. We've barely spent more than a day together, yet he allowed you to go ahead of the group with me. Is he truly that careless?"

"Can't speak for Jet, but I suppose you're right about me," he shrugged, "But if we're going to work together then paranoia will only get in the way. Wouldn't be able to concentrate on casting spells if I'm constantly worrying about if you'll stab us in the back and run off with the loot."

"Correct, but foolish. We do not have to trust each other to fight together," the Huntress squinted as sunlight from a gap in the canopy temporarily blinded her. The darkness lasted just long enough to distract her from an exposed tree root. She felt her feet leave the ground as she tripped over it, preparing to roll right when she landed to minimize the damage.

Then a large, soft hand grabbed the back of her coat.

She blinked the darkness away as Sentinel set her down on her feet, "True. However, it certainly feels better, doesn't it?"

A memory resurfaced as she beheld Sentinel's smile. The face of Father Gascoigne replaced the old man's as her battle against the Cleric Beast flashed before her eyes. The warm, comforting grin he gave her as he blocked the Beast's massive fist before it crush the life out of her gave her the strength she needed to finish the fight. It was both her first true fight as a Hunter, and her first time working with a partner.

It was a wonderful experience.

And Yharnam, that blasted city, snatched it away.

But this world wasn't Yharnam.

She softened her expression, placed a hand on her hat and gazed up at Sentinel, a small smile hidden behind her bandana, "Yes. I suppose it does."

* * *

"Shit," Jet cursed under his breath as he brought his crossbow up to his eye. It was midday, the sun beginning to set behind the horizon. Thankfully, there was still enough light to let him examine the area where their quarry had been found. What he saw did not fill him with confidence.

He frowned while sucking his teeth, crouching down into the brush he was hiding in. Behind him were Sentinel, Blitz, and the Huntress. Sen had his staff in one hand with his eyes closed, while Blitz was polishing the tip of her lance with a handkerchief. The Huntress lied prone on the ground, her eyes shooting up to Jet's when he returned, "How many did you see?"

"Five, six, maybe seven?" Jet spat into a pile of leaves nearby, "Point is it's way more than I thought it would be. They set up camp on a small hill, with sentry positions set up along the bottom. The ones I saw were right there, laying on beds made of bundles of leaves. They've made to spread them out but not so far that big gaps formed between them. They've covered all the bases in terms of perimeter defense."

"Unsurprising," Blitz put the cloth into a pocket on her skirt, "me and Sen knew things would be like this before we got here. Any sign of our hostage?"

Jet shook his head, "None, but I saw a werewolf coming down from the top of the hill. She was walking kind of funny, and the sentry she relieved bolted right for the crest as soon as she showed up. Which means that..."

"That all our plans are shot to hell," Sentinel's expression was grim. He opened his eyes at Jet, "The only reasons we haven't been found yet are my magic dampening any sound we make, and the fact that we're downwind of the hill. The moment we get too close or go around we're through."

Jet squinted his eyes, tapping away at his crossbow in thought, "We could try to draw them away in groups, but they've been in this forest for a while. They'll turn the tables on us in a heartbeat if we try to fight them here."

"Waiting until nightfall isn't an option for obvious reasons," Blitz placed a fist on her forehead as she tried to think of a plan, "That leaves charging in like a bunch of morons. Which could work...if we don't get overrun." The three of them lapsed into silence as they all thought of multiple plans of action. However, they all fell apart the moment they factored in the numbers and strength of the werewolves. Soon, the bounty hunters started to earnestly contemplate giving up on the mission. It wasn't ideal but neither was getting captured by monsters and turned into sex puppets. What good would thirty thousand gold be to them then?

Jet was about to voice this exact thing, when the Huntress sat up from her position. When the group's attention was firmly on her, she spoke, "I have a suggestion; I act as a decoy."

Her comrades looked at each other, then at her.

"What?" they all said in unison.

The Huntress, unperturbed, continued, "If the enemy has an acute sense of smell, then it is just as much our advantage as theirs." She took out a throwing knife to draw her plan out in the dry grass beneath them, "I can move around to the back of the hill, where the wind will pick up my scent. The pack will smell it and come after me. At which point, I will cause enough damage to get them to pull their sentries away from this side of the hill. While they're all focused on me, you three will climb up the hill on this side, grab the target, then run away before they can react I'll either fight my way through to you, or go around and meet up with you later."

The Huntress gazed at the faces of her comrades. They were frowning in thought as they weighed her plan against their other options. The first to speak was Jet, who nodded his head, "Not a bad plan all things considered. However,...are you really okay with putting yourself in that much danger?"

Sentinel nodded, "He's right, Hunt. Don't go throwing your life away, thinking you need to prove something here."

The Huntress saw the old man's eyes flick to Blitz for a split-second. She held her hands out and shrugged, "I'm not out to prove anything. I am only ensuring that our mission is successful, and that we all get out with as few injuries as possible."

The two men couldn't think of a way to argue against her. Blitz spoke up, "You'll be on your own, and up against at least ten to twenty werewolves. You're sure you can handle it?"

She raised an eyebrow at the Huntress who only nodded in reply. The four of them stared at the drawing the Huntress had made, racking their minds for any other method they could try.

Finally, Sentinel and Blitz nodded towards Jet. The young leader glanced at the Huntress with a gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face, "Alright, Hunt. Let's see what you can do."


	6. The Mission Begins and Ends

Myles fell back onto the bed of leaves beneath him. His tanned skin glistened with sweat in the afternoon sun, as his chest heaved with excertion. Beside him laid his wife, Sara, the werewolf breathing just as hard as he was. Both of them were naked and covered in sweat from their love making. His wife's black and white striped fur was as matted as his short brown hair, her large red eyes staring at him with complete adoration. He smiled and scratched her head with one hand as his amber eyes roamed her body with increasing lust.

Myles' heart was in complete and utter bliss. All the lies the Order had told him and Sara were all gone now. Lost to the intense pleasure that filled them when they finally accepted each other. No more awkward stares during training, embarrassing teasing from the other Heroes, or his family forcing the two of them apart. They could live here in peace and express their hidden desires for each other away from anyone who would judge them. Sara had already born two daughters, Lulu and Fira, both of whom were watching the orgy from afar with curious eyes. They'd learn from watching their mother and aunts before they came of age, where they'd go out to find a husband of their own to bring to the pack. Then their kids would do the same, and so forth.

Myles could already see the smiling faces of his grandchildren which fueled his love for Sara even more. He sent one hand to her chest, making her moan in pleasure. Around them five other werewolves watched, waiting for their Alpha to call them for their turn.

For all seven of them, the world had stopped moving. There was nothing save for the pleasure they gave their Alpha and that he gave them in return.

Until a high pitched scream pierced through their stupor.

Not one of pleasure, but pain.

All the werewolves stopped moving. Their ears pricked up and started swiveling about. Their noses started flaring as they caught two scents carried to them from the back of the hill. The first was the familiar scent of a human female, but something about it made the more senior wolves' fur stand on end. The other was the metallic smell of blood.

Myles sat up, ignoring the chill the wind sent across his naked body to observe his pack.

He had been with them long enough that the could tell what was going on based on their actions alone. And what he saw made him grip his wife's hand tight in worry. The two of them looked at each other just as another scream echoed across the grassy hill. The seven wolves didn't hesitate, their instincts to protect their Alpha making them surge towards the smell of blood. Myles and Sara stood up at the same time nodding each other with the same look in their eyes. They finally found a place where they could be happy together, and they would defend it. Whatever it took.

The sound of grass rustling indicated their children running up to them. The two girls looked up at their father with fear etched on their faces. Lulu, the older sibling, was the first to speak, "What's going on, daddy? Is something wrong?" She had Sara's fur and her father's eyes, with a tomboyish face to match her aggressive tendencies. Fira nodded at her sister's statement while pointing a claw in the direction her aunts went. Her fur was a solid brown color with a meeker demeanor than her sister, and puppy dog eyes that elicited sympathy from all who saw them.

Myles knelt, gripping his daughters' shoulders while giving them a confident smile, "Of course not, sweeties. Daddy just needs you to go get something for him and mommy. You remember where Daddy's spear is, right?"

* * *

This should be enough.

The werewolf's roar was cut short as the Huntress' Rakuyo sliced through her chest. Her body sailed over her killer, staining the Huntress' black clothes red with blood. The long blade of her weapon was a blur as she splashed the from her weapon onto the grass below. Around her laid the corpses of the three werewolves that were guarding this side of the hill. The Huntress had swiftly made her way around the incline, getting closer as she got farther away from her comrades. By the time the enemy sentry had caught her sent she was already among them. She killed one by stabbing it through the neck with the end of her Rakuyo, then another by throwing a knife into its skull. The latest corpse to add to the pile had come running at her from further up, pouncing at her when the distance was closed.

An understandable choice, but a foolish one.

The Huntress advanced up the cliff, pistol and double-bladed sword held in her hands. The smell of blood was already starting to emanate off the bodies meaning the werewolves should start drawing their forces towards her. If they did, then she should see a host of werewolves appear from behind the crest of the hill.

If they'd didn't, then she'd have to improvise.

Wouldn't be the first time.

She's able to reach the midpoint of the hill before they start to appear. The Huntress' eyes count each one as they emerge from the top of the cliff. She counts eleven in total by the time they stop appearing, making her nod when the last of the monsters revealed itself. The plan was working. Now all she had to do was keep their attention.

Which, based on their shocked expressions as they beheld the bodies behind her, would not be a problem. She recognized the reactions they had as the reality of their companions' deaths fully hit them. The hands going towards their mouths, eyes widening in shock, their heads jerking towards the ground before expelling the contents of their stomach. She reacted the same way when she killed her first Beast. However, rather than feeling sympathy, she frowned at the feeling of justification. She recognized the piles she had passed by as bones of small animals, meaning they were no stranger to the murder of living creatures. Nor was the sight of blood and viscera something they shied away from.

Which meant that the war between the humans and monsters had truly seen little bloodshed.

Which did not sit well with the Huntress.

She turned her attention to the middle of the group, focusing her attention on the center. There stood the only male among the entire pack, meaning he was their target. And judging by how he stood with the monsters instead of attempting to get away while they were distracted, Jet and Sentinel were on the mark. Meaning this had turned from a rescue mission into a "rescue" mission. The main difference being the target was less cooperative in the latter case.

She studied the man as much as she could from her position. He held a spear in one hand and a buckler shield in the other with white plate armor that shined in the afternoon sun. His short hair framed the determined look on his face. A werewolf stood beside him, her fur black with white stripes, with her arms wrapped around one of his. She looked at the Huntress with a mixture of fear and awe that only grew the more time passed. The look was shared by her sisters as both sides continued to stare each other down. The werewolf whispered something into the man's ear that made his eyes widen for a moment. They narrowed a second later, then softened as he saw the worry on her face.

He rubbed the top of her head sending her tail wagging, before turning to the Huntress. His voice was young yet stern, as if he was on the edge of puberty, "Who are you? Why did you come to our home and attack us?"

The Huntress gave a short bow in greeting, "My name is not important. I am but a simple Hunter, and I have come for you, sir. I am hear to rescue you from these monsters and return you to your true home. I attacked merely to prevent myself from being attacked and turned into a monster, and to get to you."

The man laughed while shaking his head, "A 'Hunter'? My mother sent you, didn't she? So now she suddenly cares about me? Sorry to disappoint you, sellsword, but as you can see here I have no need of rescuing." He held out his arms to indicate the werewolves around him, "My real family is here, with me. And your hands are stained with their blood."

The Huntress narrowed her eyes, taking one step forward while her voice got deeper, "I am afraid I can not return empty handed. You will be coming back with me, willing or not."

The entire group of werewolves got onto their haunches, growling and barking at the Huntress. The man smiled while moving his hand under the striped werewolf's arm, before grabbing onto her breast. He never took his eyes off the Huntress even as the werewolf moaned under his touch, "If you can't go back, why not stay here with us? Don't you want to have a family of your own? A place to settle down and-"

"And waste away while my body is used merely to satisfy the fleeting, baser urges of others?" the Huntress pulled down her bandanna and spat onto the ground. She pulled it back up before continuing, "I think I'll choose to live my life."

She didn't know why, but her answer shook the entire line of adversaries. Even the male ceased his groping, confusion written all over his tanned face. It was like they had never heard a woman deny their offer with such conviction before. Like every other female they offered that to had accepted without delay.

The Huntress smiled at being the first one to defy their expectations.

"Now then," she took another step forward, her Rakuyo and Pistol ready, "Will you come with me willingly? Or do I have to drag you out through a sea of corpses?"

A tension settled over the hill as the two sides stared each other down. One an eleven strong werewolf pack led by a male human warrior, and the other a single Hunter who managed to cut down three werewolves on her own. No one dared make a move lest they set off the powder keg that threatened to engulf the entire section of the forest in flames.

What felt like hours passed before the male finally made his move. He looked at the werewolf by his side before walking down the incline towards the Huntress. As the rest of the Pack made to follow, he held up a hand and shouted, "If you wish to take me back, you must do so by force. However, I will not risk anymore of my family's lives on this day. I shall face you in honorable combat,. If you win, I promise to go with you but you must promise to not lay a hand on anyone else in my family."

He stopped when he was a few feet from the Huntress. She was surprised to discover how young he was. He couldn't have been more than eighteen or seventeen. Yet he already had a family and was ready to fight her to defend them. It didn't change anything, but it did make her reassess her battle strategy. She stood up straight saying, "I will fight you one on one, however I do not accept your terms. What guarantee is there that the pack of monsters behind you will not simply attack me the moment I lose or win? Or that they will not pursue me to the village in an ill fated attempt to get you back?"

"Nothing, save my promise as the Alpha," he turned around, gave each werewolf a look that communicated something to them, before turning back towards the Huntress, "there. And if I am victorious?"

"Then do whatever you want with me," the Huntress shrugged, "I care not."

"Agreed," the male spread out his legs while moving his spear to sit atop his shield. He held both out in front to protect his body and strike at the Huntress at the same time. He spoke again, anger rising in his voice, "Myra, Davi, and Ulva. Those were their names. Those were the ones you killed. Let their spirits be with me as I, Myles Deltora, face you in battle!"

His battle cry split the air as he stomped his foot into the ground. With no hesitation he rushed straight at the Huntress, his spear poised to stab at her shoulder. At the last moment he pulled his spear back and brought his shield up to strike her in the throat. The Huntress effortlessly ducked under the attack and kicked him in the stomach. The blow transmitted straight through his armor, knocking the wind out of him as he went flying back a good two feet. He rolled to his feet just as the Huntress dashed in again. His shield went up to protect him only to be pierced through by the dagger on the end of the Rakuyo. Myles let his arm slip from the buckler, watching the Huntress wrench it to the right and throw it behind her off into the forest. Myles grit his teeth and let his Mana flow across his body. This wasn't an opponent he could defeat with normal means. He had to get serious if he wanted to win.

As he dodged his opponent's sweeping strikes, he felt the energy encase his limbs as they got looser and more agile. His armor became lighter and lighter until he felt like he was nude before his opponent. His body began to glow a faint white color as his Aura started to encase his entire body. Smiling he grabbed his spear with both hands and lunged at the Huntress. He watched for the moment she backpedaled, so he could press his assualt and keep her from moving closer. Then, when his Aura had reached its peak, he'd end this battle with a single strike.

His smile of triumph swiftly gave way to a mouth agape in fear.

The Huntress, rather than dash away from the oncoming spear, stepped towards it. Myles could do nothing as his enemy dodged his attack, brought her blade up, and cleaved his spear straight in half with one swing. She didn't let up, sending a right hook to Myles' temple and a kick to his groin. As he doubled over in pain her knee came up and knocked his face towards the sky. He felt blood pool in his mouth as his body throbbed all over. He tried to regain his footing only to see the Huntress' head slam directly into the center of his face. Myles felt his nose break as he was sent to the grass below.

He tried to get up but froze as he felt the tip of his foes' blade pressed against his throat. His face quivered as he stared up at his opponent, "Wh-who are you? When Sara said you had no Mana, I thought she was just seeing things. But...it's like you're dead. And you can't be a Mamono so...what are you?"

The Huntress tilted her head at what he called her, "Mamono? Is that what the monsters call themseleves? Hmn, interesting. But I believe I already answered your question. I am a simple Hunter. No more, no less." The Huntress jerked her head to the side, "I have won this battle. I believe you owe me your cooperation."

Myles bit his lip, eyes flicking between the Huntress and the weapon in her hand. It took two minutes before he finally sighed and nodded in defeat, "Alright, I'll return with you. Can I at least-"

"No," the Huntress cut him off, "We have no time for that. Jet, Blitz, Sentinel! I have the target."

"Indeed you do," Jet said as the three of them crested the top of hill from the other side. The werewolves all jumped and readied to pounce the intruders, but one shout from Myles was all it took to prevent them from attacking. Jet clapped his hands while looking at the assembled monsters, "Do not worry, ladies. We will be out of your fur in a few moments. Alright, Hunt! Bring 'em up here! I can already taste our reward!"

The Huntress nodded while jerking her head towards her comrades. Myles recluntantly complied, placing his hands behind his back as the Huntress held her blade to his back. He scoffed as the two of them began to walk, "You'd destroy a family for coin?"

"I've destroyed many things for far less," the Huntress replied cryptically, keeping herself a good distance behind Myles. She kept her eyes on both her target and the top of the hill as they went up the incline. Her sharp eyes flicked between all the werewolves as they went. They maybe monsters, but it was clear they felt emotions the same as humans did. Specifically, desire and lust for another. And when such emotions ran high, irrational decision suddenly seem completely...wait. Where was the black and white werewolf that was clinging to-

The Huntress felt her instincts kick in. He blade flashed to her right in a dazzling dispaly that left a white streak behind it.

Everyone felt their hearts stop.

Myles slowly looked to the right.

There he saw Sara staring at him with emotionless empty eyes. Their eyes met for one last moment as he mouthed her name.

She smiled with her eyes closed.

Then her head rolled off her shoulders.

"SARA!"


	7. A Discovery

The Huntress moved first.

Just as Myles finished crying out his wife's name, the butt of her pistol smashed into the back of his skull. Her eyes and hands moved simultaneously, grabbing the falling hostage by his hair while observing the movements of the pack above. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as the world around her appeared to slow down. Five of the werewolves above set their sights on her, their muscles tensing as they got onto all fours. Their nostrils flared, their fangs glinted in the waning sunlight, and their growls could be heard across the hill.

She turned her gaze to her companions. Jet was readying his crossbow while shouting a curse of some kind. Sentinel had his staff out, the movement of his mouth revealing his attempt to cast a spell. Finally, Blitz was stepping forward to face the two werewolves who had turned to attack them. Her movements were fluid but the weight of her equipment made her too rigid. She wouldn't be able to hold off her attacks, and the two men couldn't assist her in time.

The Huntress estimated that they had five seconds before the werewolves were upon them.

Plenty of time to even the odds.

She took her pistol and sighted down the werewolf on Blitz's right, the direction the girl wasn't facing. She pulled the trigger and holstered the gun.

Four seconds.

She grabbed the waist of the target's trousers with her free hand and yanked him backward. The werewolf she shot flew back, blood flying from the wound in her head, while the five focused on her started rushing down the incline towards her.

Three seconds.

She waited until they were five feet away before making her move. With as much strength as she could muster she tossed the man towards her fellows. She watched the armored body fly towards Sentinel, his eyes slowly registering the projectile human heading straight for him.

Two seconds.

Her assailants were almost upon her, but the sight of their male flying past them made them pause. The Huntress grabbed the handle of the Rakuyo with both hands. With a twist the weapon came apart in her hands, splitting into a long sword and dagger. She bent her knees, took her stance with both weapons and aimed at the closest werewolf.

One second.

The Huntress leaped forward, dust following her arc as she descended upon the closest werewolf. Her opponent's ears flicked towards her as she raised her weapons upon her head. The werewolf hopped backward just before the Huntress landed, grinning until the Huntress' sword cleaved through her shoulder.

A spray of blood accompanied the werewolf's scream as the Huntress quickly withdrew her blade from the monster's flesh. She crouched and turned on her heal while stabbing out with her weapons. She felt resistance give as her blades pierced through the two werewolves on her left and right. The Mamono coughed up blood as the Huntress started pulling her sword from their stomachs. Four furred claws quickly grasped her arms, holding her in place as the remaining two werewolves charged her from the front. They pounced at the same time, their faces barely constraining the glee they felt at being able to avenge their fallen family.

The Huntress felt something heavy fall against her back as she tried to stand. Warm liquid fell down the back of her cloak proving her suspicions of the Mamono behind her surviving her strike. The Huntress cursed as the shadows of the two unharmed werewolves fell over her. She had thought the wound she inflicted on her first target was deep enough to put her out of the fight long enough to deal with the others. But...

A chill went down her spine as the scenery changed. Her vision became blurry as the lost its luscious green, replaced with a dark, sickly gray. The orange hue of the sun's light was replaced by a soothing, white that bathes everything around her.

She looked up and felt her eyes go wide. Her original opponents were gone, replaced with the creatures that she had fought against for a night that she thought would never end.

Beasts.

They were still werewolves, but their human shapes had been replaced with long, crooked, black fur-covered bodies. Their round faces had turned into elongated muzzles filled with rows of sharp teeth. White, bloody bandages fell around them in clumps, their claws now as large as a human's body.

The Huntress felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. No, why were they here? They shouldn't be here. They couldn't be here! She left Yharnam! Her Nightmare is over! The Beasts...they can't...they can't be...

The two pouncing werewolves landed. Their muzzles clamped down on her shoulders.

The Huntress felt something inside her snap.

Then she roared.

* * *

"Come on Blitz! We need to go!" Jet stumbled a bit as he ran down the hill, the torso of their target held in his arms. The edge of the forest was coming up in front of him. Only a few more feet and they'd be in the clear. He looked back towards Sentinel, the old man carrying the target by his legs. His forehead was covered in sweat but his eyes never left their approaching destination. He saw Jet looking at him and nodded.

Jet returned it, and turned his gaze to the top of the hill, "Blitz!"

Blitz flinched as she barely blocked another attack from the werewolf, "Shut and go! I'll catch, fuck!" She felt her feet leave the ground as the foe hit her shield, hard. Her teeth grit as she regained her footing and swung her lance in a horizontal sweep. The werewolf ducked under the first pass, only to gasp as the steel weapon came to a stop right above her. She barely dodged to the side as Blitz slammed her weapon down.

Blitz cursed as she repositioned to keep her opponent in her sight. She needed to keep the monster at bay until Jet and Sen had cleared the treeline. Only then will she try to make a break for it. Any earlier would leave all three of them open to being run down when the rest of the pack was done with Hunt. Blitz felt bad about leaving her, but what's done was done. That rookie knew the risk and accepted them. If they tried to rescue her, they'd be overrun and the entire operation would've been for naught.

Blitz shook her head while blocking a kick from her left. At least they'd be able to-

A blood-curdling roar split the air.

Blitz felt the blood in her veins run cold. She felt the raw emotion behind the cry chill her to the bone. Her legs started to shake involuntarily, as her eyes darted from one end of the hill to the other in search of its source. It took her a moment to realize her opponent had ceased her assault. The werewolf's wide, blue eyes were glued to the crest of the hill, her body rigid not in preparedness, but fear.

Blitz followed that gaze up to the top of the hill.

She almost retched at what she saw.

Hunt stood there looking down upon them like a specter of death. She slowly moved her gaze from Blitz to the werewolf, her body and weapons coated in blood. How much of it was Hunt's, Blitz didn't know. Her mind was too busy trying to comprehend how a lone human managed to fight off five werewolves without being turned. Unless...

Blitz swallowed hard before cautiously saying, "Hunt? You ok?"

The look she shot Blitz made her flinch and step back. Hunt stared at her for a few moments, before turning to the remaining werewolf. The monster began to step back, her tail between her legs at the sight of the black-clothed woman.

The werewolf made it three steps before Hunt was upon her.

Blitz felt whiplash as she jerked her head to follow the blur that was Hunt. Hunt had managed to move fast enough to get behind the werewolf to block her escape, then kick her in the back. The monster fell to the ground with a whimper. She tried to get up but Hunt stepped on her back, hard. Blitz could hear bones breaking and knew the monster wouldn't survive. She wheezed and coughed, blood running down her mouth.

Blitz took a step forward, "Ok, Hunt. That's enough. She won't follow us now."

Hunt didn't listen. She lifted her dual blades and held them over her captive's arms with their tips pointed downwards.

"Hunt? What are you doing?"

She brought her weapons down, stabbing through the werewolf's flesh with a single motion. Hunt's boot came down on the wolf girl's neck to cut off her scream, but not hard enough to finish her off.

"Hunt!" Blitz stepped forward, her hands shaking in fear, "That's enough!"

The blood covered woman ignored the almost pleading cries of her comrade. Her hands twisted her blades, widening the wounds in the werewolf's arms.

Blitz moved until she was right next to Hunt. She stabbed her lance into the ground and placed the freehand on Hunt's shoulder, "Hunt. It's over. This is just cruel. Let's just-"

If Blitz hadn't kept her shield up, she would've lost an arm.

Her feet left the ground as she was sent flying backward. She hit the grass hard, her clothes getting scuffed up and torn. She tried to stand up but failed when she tried to put weight on her left arm. The limb was numb, forcing her to use her right arm. She tried to stand up on shaky legs, barely getting to her knees.

She felt her pulse quicken and her mind began to race as her head shot up to look at Hunt.

For a split-second, she thought she was looking at a monster.

But not the kind that she was used to. Not one that would hold her down and rape her until her mind broke. Not one who's only objective was to find a husband to be with.

This monster had only one purpose in life:

Kill everything and everyone that stepped into its sight.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She thought that she was going to die.

Then Hunt spoke to her in a small, childlike, frightened voice, "Blitz?"

* * *

"Blitz?" the Huntress increased her pace as she spoke to Blitz's back, "Please let me explain."

The girl's silence was like a knife stabbing into the Huntress' heart. Blitz increased her pace, her steps crunching fallen leaves underfoot in the darkness of the forest. The sun had finally set and the two of them were walking to the rendezvous point they had set up in case anything went wrong.

The Huntress bit her lip as what happened on the hill came back to her. Being held down and surrounded brought back memories of Yharnam and...her mind made them real. Made her think she was in real danger and would feel the pain of dying again. The bloodlust she had worked so hard to keep at bay took control. She became a Beast in all but appearance. The blood that clung to her clothes was proof of that fact. This was distressing, but it wasn't something new to the Huntress. It had happened before despite her best efforts.

However, unlike before when it happened while she was alone, this time she hurt someone else while in her blood filled fugue. Worse, it was one of her new companions.

"Blitz, please. Give me a chance to explain," the Huntress increased her pace until she could touch Blitz on the shoulder. She reached out only to jerk her hand back as her instincts warned her of danger.

"I thought you'd see that coming," Blitz's voice was the same as when the Huntress first met her, cold and pragmatic. But beneath it, the Huntress could sense a hint of fear, "Par for the course for you, right?"

Blitz turned around and pointed her lance at the Huntress' chest.

A moment of silence passed between them.

Then the Huntress sighed, "Alright, what do you wish to know?" She had seen this coming. Blitz had questions and wanted answers. She just thought this would wait until they got back to Jet and Sentinel.

Oh well.

The sooner this was over with the better.

"Let's start with that blood. How much of it is yours?"

"Very little," the Huntress rubbed her shoulder, "two of the werewolves bit my shoulders. Why do you ask?"

"I'm asking the questions here," Blitz became warier with the Huntress' answer, "now strip."

"Pardon?"

"You heard me. I need to see your arms and legs."

"Why would...oh," the Huntress nodded while grasping a sleeve, "Is that how they transform humans? That is good to know." The Huntress pulled up her sleeves then her trouser legs, and took her black gloves off, revealing the supple white skin underneath. Blitz looked her body up and down, before nodding her head. The Huntress smiled while putting her gloves back on, "Anything else?"

"Yeah, what in God's name are you?" Blitz slid her legs, "The things you've told us and the things you did back there don't add up."

"What do you mean?" The Huntress asked more to keep the conversation moving than out of genuine curiosity. She knew exactly what Blitz meant.

Blitz started to pace to the left, circling the Huntress as she spoke, "You knew nothing about monsters, the Order, Mana, or the war before yesterday, and don't have a single hint of Mana in you. Yet you managed to bring down five werewolves, on your own, without breaking a sweat, and come out of it injured but not turning into one of them! Normally, I'd chalk that up to you being a Hero and not telling us so you could turn us into the Order."

The Huntress narrowed her eyes. Sentinel had explained what Heroes were to her. They were similar to Hunters. Individuals that, by choice or chance, became extremely powerful and are sent to defend people from the things that go bump in the night. However, where the Hunters were hated and feared, Heroes are celebrated and loved. The Huntress could only imagine what that felt like.

"And what makes you believe otherwise?" the Huntress did her best to appear as nonchalant as possible, her eyes following the smaller girl as she circled to her left.

Blitz's face turned into a disgusted sneer as she spoke, "You _killed _the monsters."

"Yes. And?" the Huntress questioned.

"That! Right there!" Blitz jabbed her lance forward but did not go far enough to hit the Huntress, "Heroes don't act like that! You killed an entire pack of werewolves and don't feel even a tinge of remorse. Heroes never kill anyone, because they're supposed to be pure, good, and kind. They defend the weak and fight with Honor!

Blitz stopped moving when she was in front of the Huntress again. She spoke the next sentence with as much bile as she could muster, "You are no Hero. And anyone who treats other lives the way you do isn't someone I can trust. I'll let you stay until we get the job done, but after that, you're out. Got it?"

The Huntress did not respond. She simply stood there, her face covered by the shadow of her tricorn hat. She shook her head before looking down at Blitz, "I understand your concern. I will take what you have said under consideration. Now, might I ask some questions of my own?" At Blitz's nod, she continued, "The man we rescued, Myles I believe he said his name was. He's a Hero, correct?"

Blitz nodded again, her eyes narrowing in surprise, "He is. How'd you know?"

"His fighting style. It was clear he had some training in the use of a spear, and he started to 'glow', for lack of a better word, at one point. I believe that was him using Mana. I also suspect the stripped werewolf I killed was also a Hero at one point."

"Ok, that's a stretch," Blitz folded her arms while rolling her eyes at the Huntress.

The Huntress continued unperturbed, "She managed to hide her presence well enough to sneak up on me until I realized she was gone. On top of this, Myles knew her name and was visibly shaken when she died. More so than when I killed the three werewolves before her."

"Where are you going with this?"

"If we are to use those two as an example of Heroes, and everything you just said about them was true, then the humans are in even more dire straits than I thought."

"What?" Blitz's head tilted incredulously, "What does any of that have to do with this?"

The Huntress took a step forward, "Tell me, have you made any significant gains in this war? Have you heard stories of Heroes going out and taking ground now occupied by the monsters?

Blitz suddenly went quiet. Her lance began to shake in her hand, and the Huntress took full advantage, "Have you seen any Order excursions that return with news of the monsters' defeat? Do you see a multitude of places being repopulated by the ailing human population?

"Or," the Huntress took two steps forward, the tip of the lance now almost touching her nose, "do you constantly hear the opposite? Tales of Heroes falling to the embrace of the monsters? Great role models being brought low as the monsters overtake yet another village? Stories of young men and women being taken in the night and everyone just goes about their day as if it's a normal occurrence?"

By this point, the Huntress had completely bypassed the lance and stood right in front of Blitz. The smaller girl's body was visibly shaking as multiple emotions warred inside of her. The girl looked up at the Huntress, frustration, and anger blaring in her eyes, "And what do you know, huh? You didn't know there was a war until yesterday!"

"True," The Huntress stepped to Blitz's left side and placed a hand on her shoulder, "I do not know the exact circumstances of your situation. Nor do I understand the nuances and movements of your leaders. However, I do know war. Or at least, something very similar. And if there is one thing I know about war it is this."

The Huntress stepped past Blitz with an ominous warning, "In war, you either kill your enemy or you are killed in return. There is no middle ground. If your leaders and Heroes do not soon realize this, then the monsters have already won."

She walked away, leaving Blitz standing there with her lance pointed at the air. The Huntress stopped for a few moments and waited. When she heard footsteps behind her she continued towards the rendezvous point.

* * *

"What did you say to Blitz?"

The Huntress looked up from the wooden figure in her hand. Sentinel stood next to her as she leaned against a tree trunk. They had turned a clearing into their temporary campsite. The plan was to wait until morning to move on to the village. Their client would be in town tomorrow to complete the transaction. There were worries over how the gold would be shared until the Huntress agreed to take merely ten percent of the earnings. She surprised Jet with that decision, but he did not attempt to dissuade her from it.

Sentinel crossed his arms as the Huntress stared at him. She didn't hear any anger in his previous statement, meaning he was asking more out of genuine curiosity than malice. Which was good, because it meant he was willing to listen.

She spoke to the large man in a matter of fact voice, "That humanity is on the brink of destruction, and how their supposed protectors will fail them because they will not kill their enemy."

Sentinel was silent for a few moments. The sound of groaning brought their gaze to the Huntress' feet. There is a pile of dead leaves lays their target, Myles Deltora. He only had his cloth jerkin and trousers now, his armor and weapon divested and hidden away from him. Though the Huntress wondered if there was a need to do that. Myles had been completely quiet since they rescued him. He made no attempts to escape, shouted no protest, and had no reaction to the fact that the one who killed his "family" was standing right next to him. The Huntress had seen this before, and it made her skeptical that their client would be happy with their job.

There was a thump, and the Huntress turned her attention back to Sentinel. The old man was sitting on the ground, his legs crossed, while his tired eyes gazed at the Huntress, "Yeah, I thought so. The war is a...touchy subject with her. She's always idolized Heroes. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd thought they were the incorruptible bastions that the monsters would break upon. It's what made her start training. She wanted to be strong enough to defend the innocent. I remember the spark in she had in her eyes now she tries to be like them. I just hope it doesn't get her captured and turned one day."

The Huntress nodded, understanding dawning on her. The way Sentinel said "always" got her attention, "You knew her before she became a bounty hunter then?" Though this was likely a personal question, Sentinel speaking to her like this made her feel slightly giddy. He was comfortable enough with her to talk about his past and relationships with his two friends. It made her feel trusted again for the first time in a long time. And she wouldn't betray that trust. Not again. Not ever again.

The old man nodded, "Aye. I knew both them since they were kids. Jet and Blitz. A poor orphan off the side of the streets with nothing to his name, and a bright-eyed town girl searching for a dream. I remember kicking their asses into shape as if it were yesterday."

"And what are they to each other?" The moment the Huntress asked a loud, feminine moan came from the other side of their campsite. Myles shifted a bit at the sound then went still again.

Sentinel smiled knowingly, "That answer your question?"

"Indeed," the Huntress nodded before shaking her head, "I feel a strange sense of deja vu. Blitz and I get into an argument, I anger her, Jet comforts her, while you try to give me an explanation."

"Strange how things work out, huh?" the old man looks up at the night sky wistfully.

There was silence between the two of them for a moment until the Huntress asked, "What do you think, Sentinel?"

"Just Sen will do," the Huntress resisted the urge to pump her fist at being allowed to use his nickname, "and about what?"

"This war. Do you think humans have a chance?"

He was silent for a long time, a deeper and deeper frown etching into his face every passing second. Finally, he replied, "No. Not really. They don't look like it, but the Order's on the back foot. The monsters keep kidnapping folks and turning them, more of them are born every day, and them seizing Lescatie was one of their biggest moves yet. If God doesn't get up and do something soon...then I don't know if the humans she's trying to protect will still be here."

"I see," was all the Huntress could say. A few minutes of contemplative silence went by as they digested what Sen had said. The Huntress had already come to these conclusions, but hearing it from a veteran like Sen turned mere guesswork into a logical deduction. She was starting to understand the bigger picture behind this war. But there were still some pieces missing, and she wasn't sure how to collect them.

Sen stood up from with a grunt holding his hand out to the Huntress, "Ok then, let me see your hand."

"Why?" the Huntress asked as she put the statue into a chest pocket.

"Blitz said you got bit," Sen's face was soft but serious, "I'm gonna check to see if you're fine. I know you told her you were, but people tend not to realize when the transformation has begun until it's too late. You may not have any Mana, but no one's managed to resist being turned once they get some Spirit Energy from a monster in 'em. So, come on. I'm just gonna check."

"And you will do this, how?"

"A Mana transfer," he pointed to himself then to the Huntress, "I'll send a bit of my Mana into you, and draw any Mana from you into me. If you're still human, then nothing should happen. If you're not...well, we'll deal with that when we come to it."

The Huntress looked at the burly man's calloused right hand. She shrugged and place her left hand into his, "If it'll set your mind at ease then alright."

Sen smiled before closing his eyes. The two of them stood there with their hand clasped for five minutes with nothing unusual happening.

Then he cried out in immense pain.

The Huntress panicked, quickly letting her companion's hand go, "What's wrong?!"

He doubled over while holding up his right arm up with his left. His eyes were wide with panic and fear as he beheld his now numb arm. He couldn't move a single finger. His breathing was heavy as he slowly looked at the Huntress with shock in his eyes, "My...my Mana...you...you took it."

"What?" the Huntress stood her ground, 'What do you mean?"

"You _took _my Mana," Sen spoke with equal parts awe and distress, "and not like a monster does. You didn't take it and use it to feed yourself. You...you _destroyed _it. It's like any Mana that gets into your body is...obliterated. When I looked inside you I saw...a ravenous, hungry maw that just devoured all the Mana that came to it. Anything it absorbed it destroyed. How is that possible? What...what the fuck are you?!"

The Huntress felt her heart sink.

She stumbled over her words as her brain worked overtime to find an explanation.

She found one.

And it made her slip deeper into despair.

Her expression darkened as she turned her back on Sen. She spoke with a cold, unfeeling voice, "I'm sorry, Sen. I never thought...I never thought that would happen. I'll leave you to recover."

"W-wait," Sentinel reached out towards the Huntress with his left hand, but she was already walking deeper into the forest.

The last thing she said before she was swallowed by the trees was, "Thank you for telling about your past. And tell Blitz, I'm sorry."

Then she disappeared into the darkness of the night.


	8. An Important Meeting

Sentinel cursed under his breath as he hobbled to the tent Jet and Blitz were in. His right arm was held under his left armpit, Mana slowly coming back to it. It still felt like a lump of lead attached to his body but he could bear with it. What he discovered was too important to let something like this slow him down. He needed to get Jet and Blitz out here to help him find Hunt. Getting her back to Pran was the only thing that mattered now. Even above their job.

It didn't take him long to find the two lovers' tent. He just had to follow the grunts and moans of pleasure. His eyes narrowed as he limped towards the triangular fabric, "Blitz! Jet! Get your asses out here! Hunt's gone and we need to find her!"

"L-little, ah, busy, ah fuck, here Sen," Jet's reply was followed by a loud, uncharacteristically girly moan from Blitz.

The old man didn't listen, stomping forward and pushing the tent flap wide open. They had laid out a camping bed with a lit lantern to their left. Blitz was down on all fours, naked with her head facing the entrance while Jet knelt behind her. The two lovers jumped at Sentinel's sudden appearance, Jet losing his balance and falling backward. He left Blitz with a wet pop turning her surprised gasp into a frustrated moan that was muffled as her face hit the cloth beneath her.

Jet hit the ground and pushed himself up by his elbows. He stared daggers at Sentinel, "What the fuck, Sen?! Didn't you hear-"

"Shut it ya horny little shit!" both Blitz and Jet went silent at the old man's outburst. He hadn't raised his voice at them since their training years. Now he was stomping towards Jet, his face redder than a tomato, and his fist clenched in anger.

"Woah," Jet got to his feet while looking up at Sentinel, "You alright, Sen? And what was that about Hunt?"

"Listen to me," Sentinel's voice brokered no argument, "we need to move fast. Hunt went off into the woods and we need to find her before she gets too far. We can bring the target with us if you want, but time is of the essence!"

"I...I don't see why we...oh god...have to chase after her," Blitz's legs wobbled as she tried to stand, her pink hair completely disheveled, "I say good...good riddance."

"I mean, yeah," Jet rubbed the back of his head, "I mean if she left, that means she abandoned her post watching our client's son. That's not exactly something we can brush off."

Sentinel narrowed his eyes and grabbed Blitz by her shoulder. He pushed her into Jet's arms and shouted, "Look at this!"

He pulled his right arm out and left it to flop to his side. His two companions focused on the numb limb, Blitz immediately lifting it up in her hands. Her eyes scanned the appendage while she questioned, "What...what happened? Did Hunt do this to you? Did she turn after all?"

"Hunt did do this, but she's not a monster. Well not exactly. I'll explain later, we need to find her, now!"

Jet frowned, "Why? If she did this to you, then I agree with Blitz! Let her leave!"

"You don't understand," Sentinel put his arm back under his armpit while shaking his head. His eyes were alight as he spoke, "She's the key. She's the thing the Chief God has been waiting for. She can do the one thing no Hero has managed to do yet!"

"And that's?" his comrades looked at him with trepidation and uncertainty.

"Win us this War."

* * *

"It's your fault."

The Huntress looked at the murky red liquid held within the vial she held in her palm. She had removed her gloves, leaving her skin open to the cool night air. Above her, the waning moon shined down upon her with silver light. It reflected off the container, the metallic needle on the bottom shining in the dark of the night.

"It's always your fault," she started to squeeze the vial in her right hand. It creaked beneath her grip, the smooth glass lightly shaking against her skin. She started to bite her lip with the same intensity.

"Whenever I try to find something good in life, make something I can be proud of, or form a bond with someone who could come to understand me, you ruin it."

Her grip intensified. The glass started to crack. She felt her hand shaking at the same time as the glass.

"First you took my humanity. Then you took my friends. Then you took my mentor."

The cracks spread across the container. Her lip started to bleed under her teeth.

"And now, you've taken this chance for a new life. You. Take. Everything from me."

The glass shattered in her palm. The warm liquid splatters across her hand, any cuts from the glass healing as her skin absorbed the Blood. She flexed her hand before leaning against the fallen log at her back. She sighed, feeling the frustration and anger dissipate as the cool night air entered her lungs.

She reached into her coat pocket and brought out three statues she bought yesterday. She held each one up to the moonlight to thoroughly examine them. They were all depiction of a classical knight in various poses with his sword. The first was him bravely defending against an invisible foe. The second was him standing tall with his head held high, his armor cracked and broken in places. The last showed him kneeling on one knee with his hands clasped around the hilt of his sword, possibly praying to a god of some kind.

The Huntress moved the third figure back and forth in her hand. Memories from her childhood surfaced as the moonlight filled her gaze. The sight of a man in armor driving away bandits as she watched from a decrepit rooftop. The same knight rescuing her from a horrid faith as some slumlord's toy. His death at the hands of a terrifying beast that had escaped into the countryside...

She frowned at the ugly memory, then threw all three figures deeper into the forest. They crashed into a bush breaking the wooden twigs as they hit the forest floor. Regret suffused the Huntress, causing her to sigh while shaking her head. That wasn't fair to neither the statues nor the craftsman who made them. And taking her frustrations out on inanimate objects, while therapeutic, was not healthy.

She made to stand but paused at a familiar sound to her right. A slow glance to her right made her eyes go wide. A small pond filled with brackish liquid had formed next to her, and out of it came the sickly, gray bodies of the Messengers. Four of them climbed out of the puddle, three of them holding up the figures she had discarded.

She blinked twice before slowly reaching down and plucking the statues from their hands, "Th-thank you, little ones. Though, why are you here?" The Huntress asked this out of genuine curiosity. True, the Messengers had a talent for appearing anywhere and everywhere to assist the Hunters, but that was back in Yharnam and the Nightmare. This is a completely different world so why are they...

"It's because of you."

The Huntress looked up from the Messengers. She sighed while standing up, taking out Burial Blade. She held the curved sword in one hand while unholstering Evelyn with the other. She looked to her left with barely hidden annoyance, "Show yourself before I am forced to drag you out here."

From the shadows of the forest came an equally dark clothed woman. As soon as she revealed herself, the Huntress knew she was a Mamono. Her unnaturally large breast, wider than average hips, the way she seemed to float along the ground, and the abnormally pale skin provided all the proof she needed. Her hands were clasped together in front of her with their long fingers interlaced with each other. A black veil flowed across her back, forming a hood atop her head and matching the long, black hair that reached her lower back. Her slanted eyes looked at the Huntress with...pity?

The Huntress tilted her head in confusion. She let the creature step into the moonlight to get a better view and her suspicions were confirmed. The Mamono's cheeks were streaked with tears that were still running down her face, while her large black eyes looked upon the Huntress as one would a wounded dog. Her weeping echoed across the silent forest seeming to eliminate all other sounds in the vicinity. The Messengers had long since left leaving the Huntress alone with the ethereal monster.

The Huntress pointed her blade at the Mamono, stopping it in its tracks, "That is close enough. Who or what are you, why shouldn't I cut you down where you stand." She expected one of two reactions from the monster. Either some type of retaliatory response, possibly of surprise or confidence before they began to exchange blows. Or one of fear, where the monster attempted to run away as the Huntress chased it down.

What she did not expect was for the Mamono to start crying.

Loudly.

For the first time since she came to this world, the Huntress genuinely surprised by something she did not see coming. She was no stranger to crying. She had heard plenty of anguished wails from both the living and the dead in Yharnam. The Hunt affected everyone in the city and some simply couldn't withstand the mental strain at waiting for it to end. Of particular note were the old women who insulted her predicament when she was searching for survivors. Rude they may have been, but to watch them slowly descend into mad cackles...no one deserved that fate.

However, all those people began to cry for a reason mostly divested from her actions. This creature did so in response to her threat.

It was...strange.

"Why do you weep?" the Huntress asked without lowering her weapon, "What could you possibly have to weep for?"

"I weep for many," the Mamono's voice was surprisingly clear, concise, and sonorous in spite of her tears, "for that is all I can do. I weep in the hopes to grant succor and peace to those who have met their end, those about to meet death, and those who bring it with them. It is my duty as a Banshee, servant of Hel."

"Ah," the Huntress rolled her eyes, "so you weep for the werewolves I killed. That is understandable. But if your objective is to elicit sympathy from me, then I'm afraid your efforts are in vain."

The "servant" shook her head, "No. My sisters shed their tears for them. I have come to shed mine for you."

The Huntress scoffed while spreading her feet wide, "Any pity you feel is wasted upon me. I did kill your kin did I not?"

"Death does not discriminate. It takes all, whether they be friend or foe. You of all people should know this," the Banshee began to wail again with her hands clasped to her chest, "The death of many, both friend and foe, weigh heavily upon you. Their memories and spirits cling to you, a mist of anger and regret."

At the mention of memories, the Huntress instinctively reached inside and was surprised at the familiar feeling of ethereal liquid beneath her fingers. Retracting her hand revealed clumps of Coldblood. Whispers came to her ears as she held the congealed liquid, unintelligible save for a few fleeting words that said Myles' name. She stared at the Coldblood for a time, not as surprised as she thought she should be. She didn't expect to find Coldblood here nor did she think it would be possible to gain Blood Echoes from this world's inhabitants. She hadn't bothered to check after her first two encounters with Mamono and bandits respectively. However, there was nothing saying it wouldn't be possible. Yet another thing to look into when she returned to the Dream.

"And they are not the only ones," the Banshee continued, "it is as if you are Spectre of Death itself. Mamono and humans alike will not live to see the next light the moment they cross your path. The future I see with you in it is a bleak one built upon a mountain of corpses the likes of which none can fathom. I weep for them, I weep for you, I weep for us all."

The Banshee's sobbing reached a fever pitch this time. Her crying voice echoed through the forest, a cacophony of sorrow that drove the birds from the trees and shook the bushes around them. Any man or woman in attendance would feel compelled to rush forth and quiet the distressed wailing, magical impulses pushing them to act even if they didn't understand the reason for their urgency.

The Huntress merely rolled her eyes.

She put the Coldblood back into her pocket, walked back to the fallen log, sat down with her back against it, then turned her attention to the moon above. She spoke at length to the Banshee, "If you have spoken your piece, then be on your way. You have made no attempt to harm me nor seem to be of threat to those around me. Head in any direction save to directly behind me and no harm will come to you."

"So cold and cruel," the Banshee sobbed but bowed her head, "but you are correct. I am merely here to mourn and deliver the children."

"Children?" the Huntress sat up, her hands gripping her weapons tighter than before, "What children?"

Rather than answer, the Banshee gave a sad smile before disappearing into the foliage behind her. A rustle came from the bushes where she had vanished and out stepped two young Mamono. They were indeed children, neither of them even old enough to be considered toddlers. The color of their fur, their eyes red from crying, and the blazing hate they pointed towards the Huntress told her all she needed know.

She slowly stood up, her face set but her body unsteady as she got to her feet. Instantly, she heard one of the werewolf pups rush straight at her. This one had the same striped fur as her mother and jumped at the Huntress with teeth and claws bared. The Huntress didn't move as the pup crashed into her torso. The girl slashed with her claws but they barely penetrated the thick coat the Huntress wore. When she realized how her attacks were ineffective, she started searching for some opening in the Huntress' clothing.

The Huntress watched the hyperventilating child with growing unease and slight terror. Her hands felt clammy, sweat started forming beneath her hat, and the eyes constantly shifted from the werewolf child attacking her to the blade in her right hand.

'Why? Why did it have to be children?'

The Huntress felt the unpleasant memory of her greatest failure start to resurface. She closed her eyes and grabbed her head with her left hand. She shook her entire torso, sending the werewolf tumbling to the ground.

She yelled out, "No! No! No! No! It wasn't my fault! I had no control over it! I just told her where to go! All she had to do was wait for me! It wasn't my fault!" She had said this over and over again, gone over the event with a critical eye millions of times, and had already gotten revenge for the girl's death.

But no matter what she did, that wound on her heart refused to heal.

She stopped thrashing around pulling her hand away from her face. She hadn't put her gloves back on and her pale skin was completely exposed to the air. Evelyn fell from her left hand as she blinked once. Instantly her hand was covered in blood. Not the blood of Beasts or crazed Hunters. Blood of the innocent. Blood of those who didn't deserve to die at her hand.

Blood of two children who had the misfortune to meet her on the Night of The Hunt.

Just like these two.

"No, no, no, no," she crouched and started shaking her head while muttering nonsense, "It wasn't my fault. I'm not in Yharnam anymore. Things are different here. Things will be different here! It wasn't my fault..."

A tug on her right arm broke her out of her stupor. She slowly turned her head to see the other a little girl holding onto the sleeve of her cloak. She looked exactly like Gascoigne's daughter, and for a moment the Huntress felt hope rise in her chest. Could this be her chance to atone? To make amends for her failure?

That vision was shattered when the girl bit the Huntress' exposed arm.

The Huntress felt the haze in her head clear as the girl changed in front of her eyes. The human girl was replaced by a brown-furred monster that was currently biting into her skin. She shook the Mamono off, picking Evelyn up as she got to her feet.

"That's how...," the pup rubbed her eyes while sobbing out her sentence, "..that's how Dad said he and Mom got together. Now...now you can be our new Mom."

"Yeah!" the striped one stood up, "You'll turn into one of us, then become our Mom, then we can get Dad back, and everything will go back to normal!"

The Huntress got to her feet and looked between the two children as her mind processed what they just said. They didn't look any older than five, yet they already had the urge to transform other females into monsters. Not just the urge, but they knew the exact methods they needed to use and doubtless knew how to do the same to men.

If that was the case then...

The Huntress lowered her head and spoke to the two girls in a commanding voice, "You miss your mother? Do you?" She let the words seep into their minds before saying the next part, "Would you like to see her again?"

Their dog-like ears pricked up at that. The Huntress did not waste the opening, "If you do, then simply stand right here and close your eyes." Whether it was the commanding tone of her voice, or they genuinely believed that they would see their mother again, the two girls obeyed the Huntress' instructions. She nodded when the two stood in front of her with their eyes closed, the striped one tighter than her sister.

She gripped her Burial Blade tight and raised it high above her head.

The moonlight glinted off the silverite edge.

She was vaguely aware of the sound of twigs being snapped, and someone's voice yelling at her to stop. But she had made up her mind.

For the sake of countless others, these children's lives end tonight.

She brought her blade down and...nothing happened.

She frowned and tried again...still nothing.

Her frown grew as she looked towards her weapon arm. It felt like someone was holding her back. But who-

"I think I've let you run free long enough," a loud, booming voice resonated through the Huntress' entire being. Her body tensed and instincts she had long since suppressed came to the fore once again. Her breathing quickened, her heart pumped faster, and her entire body was on alert. For once again, she felt the presence of something far greater than her. Something whose existence was much older and much more substantial than her own.

She felt the presence of A Great One.

A God.

It stood right beside her, holding her arm in place with one hand. It wasn't there in the flesh, instead using a projection of red-tinted Mana as a stand-in. It had no defined form, but the voice in the Huntress' head had sounded female. And, based on the immense strength she felt around her wrist, this could only be Ares, the so-called Goddess of Fighting.

The Goddess' projection leaned forward, the smell of battle and body oils beginning to permeate the air as she spoke, "I know you're new here, but that doesn't excuse your actions. I've left you alone because I thought you might come around to our way of doing things.

The sigh the Goddess gave made flattened the grass beneath the Huntress' feet, "But it's obvious that won't happen on its own. So, I'm going to teach you a little lesson about-"

Ares went silent at the sight of Evelyn's barrel aimed directly at her face. She moved her head to look the Huntress in the eyes.

And saw something that made her skin crawl even through her projection.

Most mortals immediately felt pride, strength, passion, or lust fill them when they so much as felt her gaze upon them. The Amazons and Lizardmen who worship her can attest to this fact.

But she didn't see any of that in the Huntress' eyes.

No fear. No awe. None of it.

No, what she saw was something even more terrifying.

The Huntress didn't see her as a God.

She saw her as prey to be hunted.

And, for a split second, that's exactly what Ares felt like.

She dropped her astral projection just before the Huntress pulled the trigger.

The report of a bullet being fired sent the forest into a frenzy. Whatever birds had returned to roost flew away again. The sound spooked the werewolf girls who dashed off into the foliage. The Huntress cursed under her breath as she looked to her left to see Blitz rushing towards her with an arm outstretched.

The younger girl stopped a few feet away from the Huntress, panting with her hands on her knees. When she caught her breath she yelled in the Huntress' face, "Just what the fuck did you think you were doing?! Were you seriously planning to kill children?!"

"They were monsters," the Huntress replied, half-listening as she searched the area for any trace of the Goddess.

"That doesn't matter! They were children!" Blitz's hands were curled into fists and the Huntress felt her body tense in case swung them at her.

Sentinel was the one to defuse the situation, "Calm down, Blitz. You saw what happened. Hunt stopped before she did anything. Didn't you see her arm trembling in the air?"

"Old man's right," Jet walked forward with his crossbow held in both hands, "I'm pretty sure I felt the gaze of Ares herself on Hunt back there. You know she doesn't give that to anyone! Only honorable warriors who earn her favor through noble deeds! Do you really think she'd be here if Hunt was actually going to kill those kids?"

"Actually," the Huntress interrupted, "that is not what happened at all."

Blitz looked at her with barely concealed anger, while Sentinel and Jet pleaded with their eyes for her to play along.

And while the Huntress may lie to them about her origins and her talents, she would not lie about this. They deserve to know the kind of person she is, "I was fully prepared to kill those two. They told me they were going to make me their 'new Mom'. They already knew what they had to do in order to transform a woman into a monster. Because I've let them live, they've been given a chance to find another vulnerable woman, bite her, and turn her into one of them. Then she'll find a 'husband' and a new pack will form in the shadow of the old one."

"B-but Ares," Jet started until the Huntress cut him off with a deadpan glare.

"Ares didn't come here to praise me. She came to stop me. Apparently, my killing of monsters has not gone unnoticed. She attempted to persuade me to temper my approach towards them. My response to her," the Huntress lifted her rifle while smiling wickedly beneath her bandana, "was very clear."

"No...no way," Blitz took two steps back, her legs shaking as she did, "You...you're not...you're not even human are you? You can't seriously believe this fucking psychopath is our savior can you, Sen!" She yelled at the old man who kept his eyes glued to the Huntress. She called his name twice more, each time growing more distraught.

Sentinel took a deep breath, his right arm still held under his left, and knelt on one knee. He bowed his head to the Huntress and said with the voice of a tired old man who hadn't yet lost hope, "Hunt, know I do not ask this lightly. Though I am aware of your stance on the war, I must ask nay, beg you. Please, join us! Either our group, a mercenary band, or even the fucking Order itself! Please! Help us win this war!"


	9. Finishing The Mission

The walk back was quiet.

The Huntress took point, leading Myles by rope they tied around his wrist. The Hero's head hung low with his eyes focused on something only he could see. He hadn't changed at all since last night and didn't even try to run away while everyone was gone. The Huntress couldn't blame him. Where exactly could he go at this point?

A cough from her left reminded the Huntress of her companions walking with her. Their formation was completely counter to how it was when they started. Instead of everyone following close behind the Huntress they all gave her a wide berth. Blitz refused to look her in the eyes, Jet kept avoiding her gaze, and she could feel Sentinel's gaze on the back of her head.

It seemed that the Huntress had managed to taint any relationship she had with them.

She didn't blame them. Not after what happened last night.

* * *

The Huntress silently walked through the forest, her steps hardly impeded by the darkness around her. She had traversed extremely dark areas that were the norm in Yharnam. A combination of the Night Of the Hunt and the magic of the Great Ones keeping the sun from rising. Forced to move through such areas while being surrounded by creatures that wished her dead, she had to adapt. Her eyes could adjust to the dark areas in seconds rather than minutes. Not to mention the two cubs weren't exactly careful in their flight. Broken tree branches and fallen leaves outlined exactly where they went. It would be a simple matter for the Huntress to find them.

At least, it would be.

"Tell me, why are you following me, Blitz?" the Huntress glanced at the younger woman to her left, "You'd made it very clear you do not wish to be around me."

"I'm here to make sure you don't do anything to those kids!" she shouted back, fists clenched with her eyes roaming the foliage in front of them.

The Huntress slowly turned to the old man at her right, "And you, Sentinel?"

He shrugged, "I'm here to stop Blitz from doing something stupid, and to change your mind."

"I believe I made myself very clear," the Huntress said while kneeling to inspect a patch of disturbed grass, "I will get involved with the war, but not yet. I require more information before I commit to a course of action."

"What else do you need to know?" Sentinel replied, "The monsters are outbreeding us, our Heroes are being turned against us, and the Order isn't doing shit. We need someone like you. If you join the War Effort, our fortunes would change overnight."

The Huntress stood up and started walking again, "I'm sorry, Sentinel. But, I've joined a similar conflict with very little knowledge of its true purpose before. By its end, all my allies went mad, were killed, or died by my hand when they tried to kill me. I will not make the same mistake again."

"That's what I'm saying," Sentinel continued, "I don't exactly know what you're talking about, but the past is the past. Just because you did something bad then, doesn't mean you'll do it now."

"Sen, did you not just see her try and decapitate two kids back there?" Blitz shouted in response, "Or what about what she did to your arm? Can you trust her after that?"

The Huntress sighed in frustration as Sentinel replied to Jet. The matter of what happened to Sentinel's arm was something she attributed to the Blood. Another horrid side effect of her transfusion no doubt. Investigating the exact reason was added to her ever-growing list of things she needed to look into. Things were already starting to feel like Yharnam again.

Silently she thanked Jet for going back to camp instead of following them. He pointed out how someone needed to watch the person they spent all day attempting to rescue. Even if it was an excuse to not be in the middle of those two, she appreciated his commitment to the mission. Now if only the two people following her knew how to leave well enough alone. Sentinel kept shifting between pointing out how bad the war is going and attempting to persuade the Huntress to join the fight immediately. On the other hand, Blitz repeatedly pointed out the issue with the Huntress' morals and lambasting her brutal combat methods. It was starting to give her a headache.

The Huntress started to tune her companions out, focusing on following the werewolves' tracks. They were getting close. She could tell by the tufts of fur that were caught on a few brambles. However, something was...off. She narrowed her eyes while picking up a piece of brown fur. She lifted it to her nose and sniffed it. Blitz watched with half-hidden disgust, but the Huntress didn't notice. Her eyes closed as she tried to place the scent. She had smelt it before, but where?

...No.

Her eyes shot open and she immediately ran forward. Blitz and Sentinel were stunned long enough for her to lose them in the foliage. She ignored the branches and brambles that whipped at her skin and caught her clothes. Her mind was in a panic, eyes darting to and fro while she ran.

'It can't be! They can't be here! The Plague was meant to be contained to Yharnam! How did...wait. One of them bit me. She imbibed my blood...The Blood.'

The more she thought about it the faster she ran. She heard a small groan echo from someone nearby and made a b-line for the source. She came to a small patch of yellow flowers, where a small, furry body was sprawled across the ground. She stopped in front of it and knelt, lifting the Mamono's head. The striped face of one of the werewolves stared back at her with one eye closed in pain. The Huntress recognized the cub as the one that jumped on her. The fiery one that laid out their plan.

She lifted the werewolf, using her arms as a pillow for the child, "Can you hear me? What did this to you? Where is your sister? Can you hear me?"

The werewolf coughed up a bit of blood, one arm hugging her midsection with a wince. Her eyes slowly opened up. When her vision cleared her eyes grew wide at the sight of the Huntress. She tried to get up but the pain made her lay down. With heavy breaths she spoke, "W...what did you...do...to Fira?"

"Fira?" the Huntress asked, "Is that her name? She's the one that bit me, correct? Where is she?"

The ear-splitting cry of a little girl pierced the air. It soon turned into a low, pained howling that shook the trees around them. The Huntress looked up, gently laying the Mamono on the ground. Her eyes focused on the dark forest in front of her. She stepped over the child while spreading her feet out. Evelyn and the Burial Blade shined in the moonlight as something approached from the treeline.

As it came into view, the Huntress' worst fears were realized.

It was hunched over, its spine protruding out of its skin in bloody patches. Around it was patches of thick, matted brown fur that swayed in the night breeze. It stalked forward on all fours, arms and legs elongated to help it pull itself along. The movements it made were unnatural yet it wasn't bothered in the slightest.

There was no mistaking it. The Huntress was looking at a Beast. However, its transformation was incomplete. She could still spot skin underneath the mass of fur. But the dominant reason she knew the metamorphosis wasn't complete, was the still human face it had.

The face of the other werewolf sister. She looked up at the Huntress, tears filling her eyes as she choked out both a growl and a hoarse voice, "Help me. Please. It...it hurts."

"Fira," the werewolf behind the Huntress reached out towards the approaching monster, proving her suspicions.

The Huntress' eyes flashed as she stepped towards the crying were...the Beast in front of her. There was no tension in her body as she held her Blade out to the side.

With a calm, cold voice she spoke, "Weep no longer, little one. I will free you from your suffering."

The Beast roared and haphazardly charged at the Huntress. Groups of flowers were sent flying behind it, its limbs unhindered by their irregular orientation at all.

The Huntress did not move. She merely waited for the Beast's claws to almost hit her. Then she fired Evelyn with immaculate timing. The Beast staggered up on its hind legs, its head lolling in the air.

The Huntress felt her weapon leave her, the muscles in her arm grow, and her body tenses up. She brought her arm back and shoved it forward.

The sound of flesh being torn open echoed through the trees.

* * *

Blitz beat Sentinel to the flower patch. She came to a stop, hands-on knees as she tried to catch her breath. She coughed a few times as the cool air hit the raw skin in her throat. Her head lifted to try and find Hunt. The first thing she saw was the werewolf child upon her knees staring at something in front of her.

Hopeful that she had overtaken Hunt at some point, she ran to the child's. She knelt to the werewolf's side and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Are you ok? Come on, let's get you out of here. Someone's coming to..." Blitz's eyes narrowed as the werewolf refused to react. Her body was frozen with her eyes wide and mouth agape in terror. She followed the child's eyes...and the same expression spread across her face in an instant.

There Hunt stood, her back to them, with an inferno raging before her. Blood covered her body and dripped from her right hand, while her left hand held a glass bottle of some kind. A white rag hung out of the top with a small flame burning on its tip.

Blitz stared at the roaring fire as it began to spread across the ground, lighting the lilies around it on fire. However, whenever they spread farther than the main conflagration, Hunt would walk over and stomp them out. No errant flame escaped her, nor did it ever reach the treeline to spread into the forest beyond. Eventually, the fire was contained to a single patch of burning grass. The smell of burnt plants hung in the air, making Blitz sneeze involuntarily. Sentinel had reached them at some point, the old man watching the fire and Hunt with the same awe that Blitz did.

Hunt slowly turned around as Blitz stood up and rushed at her with a raised fist. Sentinel wasn't quick enough to stop her advance. All he could do was watch as Blitz ran up to Hunt and decked the taller woman in the face.

Hunt barely flinched from the punch. She simply stared down at Blitz, her black eyes filled with indifference and pity. Blitz yelled at her, "What is wrong with you!? Are you trying to burn the whole forest down!?"

"That was not my intention," Hunt's voice was calm in spite of the situation, "but if I hadn't acted when I did, it would've our only option."

"Oh, great, more crypt bullshit," Blitz threw her hands up in frustration, "Are you ever going to come clean with us?"

"Hopefully, no. Never," Hunt glanced behind her at the fire. It had shrunk to the size of a campfire, it's fuel beginning to run out, "And hopefully what I have done here will ensure neither you nor anyone else ever discovers it. Some things are better left forgotten. Now, Blitz. Please move out of my way. There is one last thing I have to do."

Blitz turned around and her eyes widened at the sight of the shell shocked werewolf child. She grit her teeth in anger as she ran back and stood in front of the little girl. She held her arms out, spread her legs apart, and glared defiantly at Hunt, "You can dress it up with all the pretty words you want, but I know what happened. There were two kids weren't there? And now there's only this one? That's what the fire was for, wasn't it you fucking psycho? You killed her sister and won't even let her bury the body!"

There was no hesitation in Hunt's steps as she walked forward, "Blitz, please. Move."

"Make me," was Blitz's answer.

"Blitz-"

"I don't want to...I don't want to hear anything you have to say right now, Sen," Blitz said this with clear hurt in her voice. Sentinel hesitantly reached a hand towards her, but let it fall to his side.

"Blitz," Hunt stopped when she was halfway between the fire and Blitz.

"Is this it then? Is this how you get your kicks?" Blitz chuckled more out of a need to feel brave than anything else. She could hardly breathe under the pressure Hunt was hitting her with. It was like someone had placed a bucket of water as wide as her shoulders on her back. But she pressed on, "Do you lie awake at night imagining all the people and kids you've killed? Do you smile while imagining yourself butchering them, you sick fuck?"

"Blitz. Stop," there was an edge to Hunt's voice that, if Blitz had been paying attention, would've made her rethink her next words.

"Why? Did I strike a nerve? Maybe I'm hitting the right buttons? Am I starting to break through your little facade? Good. Sentinel should see what you are. You're no savior, no Hero, no leader. You're just a freak who likes to get off to-"

There was a loud bang.

Blitz's eyes went wide. She slowly looked down and saw the Huntress' fist punching her in the stomach. She looked up and tried to speak, but something hit the back of her neck.

Her eyes flutter closed as she slumped in the Huntress' arms.

"Sen," the Huntress lifted the young woman and held her out to the old man. He grabbed with both arms, his left healed from earlier.

He hoisted Blitz over his shoulder and turned his back on the Huntress. He spoke while walking, "I'll take Blitz back to camp. If I stay here there's a chance she'll wake up and get in your way. Do what you have to, then come back."

"Understood," the Huntress nodded, "Thank you, Sentinel."

When the old man had reached the treeline, the Huntress turned to the werewolf cub kneeling in the flowers with her hands on her head. She was shaking in fear and despair, her breathing panicked, her eyes darting from side to side.

The Huntress knelt to her side. Her arms fell around the child before she could run. The cub's ears pricked up in surprise but soon fell flat as the Huntress started to caress her head. She spoke in a soothing, motherly tone, "Poor little thing. You've lost everyone, haven't you? Your mother, father, sister, everyone's gone now. You're the only one left.

The werewolf started to shake in her embrace, but she continued, "I understand your pain little one. Both from experience and because I am the one who caused it. I doubt you will ever forgive me, or that there is anything I can do to redeem myself in your eyes. But, I can at the very least reunite you with your family."

She felt the werewolf go still in her grasp, her breathing slowing down. Eventually, she went to sleep in the Huntress' arms. Her tiny chest lifted up and down as the Huntress laid her down onto the patch of flowers.

The Huntress raised her Burial Blade over the child's chest.

She brought it down with no hesitation, no pause, and no fanfare.

* * *

Ever since that night, there has been an unspoken tension between them. Specifically, her, Blitz, and Sentinel. Blitz hadn't spoken to her nor Sentinel when she woke up back in camp. Threatening glares and crossed arms were all she offered to the Huntress, while Sentinel was completely ignored. This made him go silent, probably from the amount of hurt he felt at losing one of his friends.

The Huntress kept her head pointed forward. She tried to keep her mind on completing the task at hand. There was nothing she could say to Blitz. Their perspective, methods, and beliefs were just too different at this point. The best she could do was apologize, which she had already done multiple times. Sentinel, she was more confident in. The old man understood her reasons for refusing and did not hold them against here. She could resolve their conflict with a simple conversation.

Then there was Jet and she wasn't sure...

"You thinking about me?" the man in question suddenly appeared at the Huntress' side, but she did not jump at his intrusion. The Huntress looked at him with a flat gaze that made his expression fall. He snapped his fingers, "Dang. Was hoping I could make you jump a little bit."

"And why, exactly, did you try to do that?" the Huntress asked with a flat tone.

"Because you're walking around with this really serious look on your face, when you should be happy," Jet threw his arms up in joy while smiling, "We got our guy, we're gonna get paid, and nobody got turned into a sex-crazed slave! That's three out of three right there.

He placed his hands behind his head, stretching a bit, "Plus your spat with Blitz is kind of bringing the whole group down. By the way, nice job. You managed to piss her off on your first day. That takes some serious talent."

"Believe me when I say that was not my intention. It simply turned out this way due to circumstances," the Huntress turned to Jet, "That being said, shouldn't you be upset with me? Blitz is your lover is she not?"

"How did...oh. So we were pretty loud last night, huh?" the Huntress nodded while the young man scratched the back of his neck, "Heh, sorry about that. Blitz tends to scream when we-ow!" A rock bounced off Jet's head, making him wince. When they both looked in Blitz's direction she was observing red mushrooms that were growing on top of a fallen tree log.

The Huntress chuckled at the childish display, which made Jet point at her with a smile, "Hah! I did it! I made you smile! Now things should start getting back to normal around here."

"Oh really?" the Huntress pulled at the rope while placing a hand on her hip.

Jet shrugged with a smile, "Ever since you got here, you've been stone-faced and serious. More so than anyone I've met before. If I can make you smile, then I can make anyone smile. Even if they're being abnormally cranky in the morning."

He said the last sentence out loud with his eyes on Blitz. She didn't reply, but her early actions proved she could hear them. The Huntress looked at Jet in puzzlement, "You surprise me, Jet. Not that I am ungrateful, but shouldn't you be wary of me? After everything that happened last night...I figured you'd be colder to me."

Jet's expression darkened and his jovial attitude diminished. He sighed while shaking his head, "I am mad at you, but it's mostly because you hurt Blitz. But, from what Sen told me, she was acting unreasonable. So I can understand why you did what you did. As for the kids...if I decided to stop talking to you over that I'd be nothing more than a hypocrite. Growing up, I wasn't exactly the nicest orphan in town. It doesn't mean I condone it, but I won't hold it against you."

"But what about Sentinel?" the Huntress knew she might be hitting a touchy subject, but it was better to get this taken care of before they reached the town of Pran, "Surely you agree with him on what an asset I would be to the Order?"

Jet snorted in disgust, "Hell no I don't. No offense to Sen, I owe that guy a lot. But the part about joining the Order or getting involved with this war at all? Nah. The Order hasn't exactly been good to me and mine, or the world at large. Let the fuckers burn due to their own incompetence. I'll be long gone by the time that happens, laughing all the way.

He patted the Huntress on the shoulder, "Now you can do what you wish, but if you want my advice; Use those skills of yours to make a decent living, then jump ship when shit hits the fan. You'll be much better off if you do that."

The Huntress looked him in his eyes and nodded. She smiled at him, "I'll be sure to keep that in mind, Jet. And...thank you for talking to me."

"No problem," he patted her shoulder again before stepping away, "Now, let's get back to Pran. I can already feel the gold coins sifting through my fingers."

The Huntress chuckled at the eager look on the young man's face. Though she would not receive much of the reward, she did gain many things from this mission. She learned much about this world, the Mamono and humans who inhabit it, the state of the war, and so much more. She had almost forgotten what it felt like.

As far as she was concerned, that was more valuable than any monetary gain.

* * *

They arrived in Pran by mid-afternoon. The sky was covered in an orange hue as the sun began to set in the distance. A single carriage awaited them in front of the town gates. Its blue walls were emblazoned with a lion roaring up at the sun as it stood atop a cliff. Two barded horses were hitched to it, their manes hidden beneath navy blue cloaks. Five people stood around the carriage. Two were bodyguards, their full-body plate armor shining in the afternoon sun. One was the driver who sat atop the carriage with the reigns in his hands.

Another was a man who, if his familiar hair and skin color was any indication, could've only been Myles' father. He stood with a relaxed almost annoyed look on his face. A hand went to his mouth to stifle a yawn, and the other ran through his hair. He wore a pressed blue suit with matching pants and carried no weapons on his hips. He adjusted his collar and stared at the group of bounty hunters with barely concealed indifference.

In contrast, a very animated female, who was likely Myles' mother, was pacing back and forth in front of the carriage. Her light blue ball gown followed her movements just touching the floor. Her skin was as tanned as her son's, but whatever makeup she used masked it to an extent. Her brown hair flowed across her shoulders in curls while her gloved hands were kept latched to her thin arms. Her waste was pushed in extenuating her breasts within the confines of her blue blouse.

When the Huntress and her companions came into view, Myles' mother was the first to spot them. She gasped and started running towards them, her eyes focused behind the Huntress. The Huntress stepped to the left and pulled Myles forward. She quickly undid the ropes around his wrist and pushed him towards the onrushing woman.

The prim woman threw her arms around her son's shoulders, her husband following her with a box in his arms. Her short stature was a strange contrast to her son, who was a good head taller than her. She spoke in a high pitched, dignified tone, "Oh Myles! My wonderful Myles! Whatever happened to you?

When Myles didn't respond she let him go and looked him up and down. A frown creased her features as both her hands gripped his cheeks, "Myles? Why aren't you saying anything? Did those ruffians do something to you?"

She shot a threatening glare at the bounty hunters. The Huntress rolled her eyes while Jet stepped forward. He cleared his throat and said, "Madam Deltora. I assure you we have brought no harm to your son. Unfortunately, I can't say the same about the horrible monsters. When we found him, he was being held captive by a pack of werewolves. You've certainly heard the stories of what they do to male Heroes? By the time we got to him, he was like this."

"Then you should've gotten him sooner! Oh, my poor boy!" she started rubbing his head, "You don't have to worry anymore. You'll be home soon with Mommy and Daddy."

"They killed her," Myles' voice was quiet and hoarse from remaining silent for so long.

"What was that, Myles?" Mrs. Deltora leaned forward to hear her son speak.

"They killed her, mom. They killed Sara. They killed her."

His mother frowned at the name. She lightly shook him in her grasp, "So, you did go with her then? I knew it. That damn peasant probably tricked you into running away with her, didn't she? This is what happens when you don't listen to your mother."

If he felt any indignation at what his mother was saying, he didn't show it. He simply kept staring straight ahead at something no one else could see. The Huntress crossed her arms at the sight, her eyes firmly on Myles' mother.

The father walked up to Jet and nearly dropped the solid black chest into his arms. Jet nearly fell to the ground under its weight but managed to keep himself upright. The father spoke in a regal yet bored voice, "Thank you for returning my son. Here is your reward. May God bless you on your travels."

With that abrupt farewell, the father turned around and started walking back to the carriage. The mother grabbed Myles' by the hand and easily led him to the carriage, "Come on, son. We're having dinner with the Bellwoods in two days. They have a wonderful daughter that you'll be delighted to meet. She'll help you forget all about that horrible hussy who stole you away."

"Excuse me, Mrs. Deltora?"

The mother rolled her eyes as she came to a stop and turned around, "Oh, what is it? Didn't Harlod give you sellswords your-"

Something pricked the skin on her throat.

Her skin went pale and her body began to shake as her eyes slowly fell to the curved blade pressed against her throat.

"My apologies" the Huntress spoke as if she was taking a light stroll on the beach, "But I must ask you a few questions."

"What the Hell are you doing!?" Jet screamed at Hunt's sudden action, completely thrown off guard by how quickly she closed the distance.

It took Harold, Myles' father, a minute to realize what was happening. When he did he too attempted to scream, until the Huntress aimed Evelyn at him. She fired a warning shot that sped past his ear and drove a family of rabbits from their bush. He froze up under the black-clothed Hunter's gaze, his body going rigid.

Myles was staring at the Huntress with his mouth agape. Unable to speak, he darted his eyes between his parents and the killer who was threatening them.

The Huntress replied to Jet, "Nothing, at all. You have been paid. These people are no longer your clients. And I am not affiliated with you in any way. I am simply a traveler who assisted you in your task to rescue Myles Deltora. Now, I am simply teaching this 'family' a lesson. You have no more stake in this, so please, do not interfere."

"Are you...well...huh," Jet's anger gave way to slow revelation as he looked at the box of gold in his hands. He opened it up and saw the pile of shiny golden coins inside.

He turned to Sen, making the old veteran shrug, "I mean, she is right. We've already been paid. There's not much we stand to lose if she does this. The Order could come after us, but they don't know who we are so..."

"They could ask around," Blitz spoke for the first time since last night, a hand on her chin in thought, "But we haven't made very much noise around Pran. I doubt anyone would be able to pin us down. The only loss is that the Deltora's will spread lies about us, but they don't have any concrete information nor are they a well-connected family.

She shrugged, "All in all, we stand to lose nothing. Plus they're jerks. So..."

Jet nodded while smiling, then cupped a hand to his mouth and shouted, "Indeed! Thank you for all your help stranger! Deltoras we'd love to assist you, but I'm afraid our contract is up. Unless you would like to renew it..."

Mrs. Deltora scowled and spat at Jet, "You curs! You'll regret this, I swear!"

"That's a no then," Jet started to walk around the group, "In that case, we shall be on our way. May we meet again, stranger!"

The Huntress nodded towards the three as they made their way back to the city. She spotted the bodyguards moving to stop them and shouted, "Don't move, else your benefactors die here. I don't think either of you would want to return home and tell your families you can't afford food anymore."

The guards froze up at the Huntress' admission. They stepped back and let her companions pass into the city unabated. Jet made a throwing motion with his hand as they entered the open gate.

"Harold! Myles! Do something!" Mrs. Deltora shouted as she looked to her husband and son. The sweat running down her face began to stain her make up.

"Yes, Harold, Myles," the Huntress glanced at both men, "Do something. Here I am, threatening the lives of you and your loved ones. Aren't either of you going to act? Shouldn't either of you be attacking me and defending your mother and wife?

She turned to Harold, making the older man flinch under her scrutinizing gaze, "I can tell you used to be a warrior, Harold. Your body still moves with the same combat prowess from when you were younger. You have not yet lost all your skills, yet you stand there not making use of it. Why? Do not let yourself become stagnant. There is a war going on. If you better benefit your species by being on the battlefield than in the courts, then pick up a blade and fight."

Harold Deltora could find no answer. His mouth simply opened and closed without saying anything. His head fell to look at the ground, his mind trying to wrestle with what the black-clad stranger had said.

"And you," she turned her piercing gaze to Myles who eyed her with a combination of despair and barely burning anger, "I am well aware that I am the last person with any right to say this, as I am the cause of your despair. However, I am also someone who knows what you're going through far, far too well. As such, listen to me when I say this.

She leaned forward, her blade barely breaking through Mrs. Deltora's skin, "Grow. Up. You are not the first to lose their loved one. Nor will you be the last. Sulking and crying will do neither you nor anyone else any good. Your species is in a war on the edge of extinction, and you are one of the many chosen to help lead it from the dark into the light. Do not let yourself waste away in despair."

"You think it's that easy?" Myles replied, his voice hoarse but strong, "That I can just forget about her, what you did, and move on? Do you have any idea how much she meant to me?"

"No," the Huntress shook her head, "but think of it like this. You were both Heroes, correct? Both of you wanted to protect the innocent and defend the weak? What do you think she would want you to do? Cry and despair over her death? Or be a Hero?"

Myles went silent. He stared at the Huntress, emotions warring in his eyes. For what felt like hours his feelings ran wild inside of him as one tried to gain dominance. Eventually, he broke the stare, but the Huntress spotted a tiny spark deep within the dark recesses of his eyes.

She would have to hope that would be enough.

Finally, she turned to the mother. The female was shorter than the Huntress, forcing her to lean down so she could be heard. Mrs. Deltora's eyes were filled with fear and kept moving from her husband to her son. Only when the Huntress began to speak did they focus on her.

"Mothers are meant to care for their children," the Huntress began, "They are supposed to protect and raise them. When someone becomes a mother, her child should be the number one most important thing to her. Everything else should become secondary. And your child is hurt. He is suffering. You should be comforting him and soothing the wound on his heart. He is not a bargaining chip, nor is he a puppet you can string up to suit your needs.

She made sure her final words were backed by all the authority she could muster, "You are a mother. Act. Like. It."

She stepped away, sheathing her weapons faster than the eye could see. She pointed towards the carriage, "Now, leave. I am done with you."

* * *

"I'm home," Maggie shouted into the two-room shack. A pair of tiny feet ran out of the room to her left.

Her younger brother ran to, his reddish hair bobbing on his head as he shouted, "Big sis is home!"

She held out her arms and let the little tyke jump into them. She held him close while happily laughing, "Someone's happy! How are you, Marcus?"

"Great!" he giggled while holding up two fingers, "I grew two inches today! Nick and I measured!"

"Really?" Maggie placed a hand on her brother's head, widening her eyes in mock surprise, "You did! Congrats! You'll be as tall as Nick is one day."

"Don't count on it," came a deep, confident voice from the room to the left. A young man, taller than Maggie, his smile showing off all his white teeth. His alabaster skin was covered with old welts and scars that ran the length of his muscled arms. His blue eyes were covered by his dark red hair that ran down his head.

He stepped forward as Maggie looked him up and down, "Nick, did you get into another fight?"

Nick rolled his eyes, "No, Mag. I didn't. Montgomery came around asking about rent. Told him he'd get it before the end of the week, but fucker tried to weasel his way into staying until you got back. I got him to fuck off back to his hole though."

"Nick, you know what I've said about antagonizing him," Maggie placed Marcus on the ground, "We can't afford to lose this house."

"I know, but...that guy's a creep," Nick looked at the floor while his hand closed into a fist, "I've seen the way he looks at you. If I was stronger I could..."

"Nick," Maggie stepped forward and hugged her older brother. He hugged her back, the two of them staying that way for a minute.

"Is something wrong?" the two older siblings looked at their younger brother, who was staring up at them with sad eyes, "Did I do something bad?"

"No, no, of course not," Maggie bent down and smiled at Marcus, "nothing's wrong. Why don' you go play with the toys I made you?"

Nick ruffled the boy's hair with a chuckle, "You heard her, 'Little Hero'. Go have some fun."

Marcus was all smiles as he ran through the wooden door to his right. Maggie and Nick watched him go, nodding at each other in an unspoken agreement.

They'd make sure they kept this house, no matter what. For his sake.


	10. A Home for The Huntress

"Good Hunter," Eve said, her tone not changing in the slightest, "is something troubling you?"

The Huntress didn't answer, her focus entirely on the clumps of coldblood she had laid out on the altar at the back of the Workshop. There were twelve in total, one for each of the monsters she had killed. Nine of them were from the unremarkable werewolves, while three others were from the mother and her children. She could tell which was which by listening to the unintelligible whispers they spoke to her in. Blood echoes were what remained of her victims Will. Though it was usually very diluted, there was always a small bit of the dead person remaining in the clumps. Specifically, their memories.

Her eyes narrowed as they moved from the different gatherings of blood echoes. She picked up one of the clumps from the left side of the Altar, where she had placed the unremarkable werewolf echoes. The whispers got louder and more comprehensible as she lifted it into the air. She felt a familiar chill run through her glove and up her arm. She started to frown while flexing her fingers, thoughts of crushing the clump in her hand filling her head.

"Good Hunter?" the Huntress started at the sound of Eve's voice.

She shook her head and looked towards the doll with a small smile, 'Sorry, Eve. I was lost in thought. These blood echoes come from monsters I killed in the Waking World. I'm debating whether they'd be safe to absorb or not. While the monsters, they call themselves Mamono, do not look like Beasts they share many similarities. They spread by infecting human men and women, creating or birthing more of their number and slowly but surely overrunning the human population, and they carry an instinctual urge to attack humans no matter the circumstance."

"I see," Eve nodded while stepping to the Huntress side, "and you believe that even their blood is tainted with this infection?"

"I do not think, I know," the Huntress shook her head, "They attempted to turn me a few times. Sentinel said they injected their Mana into my body through bites. If Mana is something that flows through their bodies, what's to say it doesn't reside in their blood? Even vestiges could contain enough Spirit Energy to create a new monster.

The Huntress took a finger and placed it in the coldblood, swirling it around in the thick residue, "Then again, Sentinel said that I 'destroy' Mana when it enters my body. Based on that, I should be safe to imbibe these echoes. If I need to fight again, I could use them to improve myself further."

At Eve's raised eyebrow, the Huntress laughed, "I know, I know. But there is always room for improvement, Eve."

The Huntress narrowed her eyes, "Well, here goes nothing." With one swift movement, she crushed the coldblood in her gloved hand. The sound of glass breaking accompanied the roar of rushing water filled her ears as the echoes flooded her body. She stood stock-still, not even daring to breathe while silently counting backward from ten.

When she didn't feel anything start growing on her body she let the tension leave her one long sigh. She examined her arms, opening and closing her palms, "No adverse effects so far. I did gain a glimpse of the werewolf's memories, but nothing more than that."

"Have you learned anything from them, Good Hunter?"

"Not much," the Huntress shook her head while reaching for more coldblood, "Most of the memories were things I expected. Images of the werewolf raping a man, or biting a vulnerable woman. Nothing that I didn't already know, save for one thing.

She gathered together all the clumps on her left observing them for a moment, "They were all normal people. Not Heroes."

She crushed them, her face contorting into an angry frown as the memories filled her head, "So, they don't even spare the children. Bastards." She kept going through the clumps from the normal werewolves, all of them following the same pattern. Just repeated images of sex and rape with brief moments of conversation with their "sisters", which usually always were about or came back to sex or rape. The cut-off point was always when she cut them down.

She turned her focus to the remaining three clumps. She grabbed the one that belonged to Sara and lifts it to her eyes. She stared at it for a few seconds, briefly wondering what would she see within the memories of a Hero? She crushed the coldblood and focused intently on any new memories she could see. When it was over she sighed while smiling sadly, "So that's what happened."

"Good Hunter?" Eve placed a delicate, jointed hand on the Huntress' shoulder.

"The two Heroes I told you about. Myles and Sara. I know what happened to them," she gently removed Eve's hand from her shoulder and picked up the remaining coldblood pools. She started to pace around the room, explaining the memories she saw, "Myles and Sara were novices. They ran off from their home city to both fight the werewolves and get away from Myles' family. Specifically, his mother. She didn't like how her son fell in love with a peasant girl, even though the girl was chosen to be a Hero.

"They made it to Pran, got some supplies, then went to track down the pack. They found it but underestimated their numbers. They managed to take shelter in a cave, but not before one of the werewolves managed to bite Sara on her leg. After some time, Sara turned and Myles had to choose. Fight his lover and the pack of werewolves by himself, or surrender and live with her as his wife. He chose the latter. And now look what's happened to them.

She shook her head, "A tragic fate. One I inflicted upon them. All I can hope is that what I said to Myles gets through to him." She crushed the clumps in her hands, the expectant memories of the two werewolf children she killed flooding her mind. She turned to Eve, sad smile still on her face, "Things are not turning out as I hoped they would. But, at least I managed to make some friends from that expedition."

She shrugged and walked to the Doll. She stopped in front of her and knelt while holding her hand out to her companion, "Care to help me test my second theory?"

"Very well. Let the echoes become your strength. Let me stand close," the Doll stepped forward and placed her hands over the Huntress' outstretched palm, "now, close your eyes."

The Huntress did as her friend bade. In moments she felt the powerful wills left behind by the echoes shifting within her body. The first time she did this had felt...strange. It was like having a foreign entity swimming through her sub-conscious. They would float around in a vast expanse of blackness, waiting for the Huntress to will them become something to improve her abilities. All she need do was think of improving herself and the lingering Will would disappear, becoming apart of her.

However, each increase in power she obtained would make the next increase cost more echoes. She never understood why that was the case and Gehrman was never forthcoming with an answer. Her investigations had proven fruitless, so she chalked it up to her own body. Fortifying her body increased its own need for echoes, thus requiring more of them each time. In this case, she found that she had just enough to improve something once. It wasn't much but she had found that even a single improvement made a world of difference.

She willed the echoes to reinforce her connection with the Arcane forces. Though she did not use the fetishes that called upon the powers of the Stars, her weapon did. She had taken up her mentor's weapon as both a memento and to prove that she had surpassed him. However, the Blade did not seem to accept her. She could not use any of the phenomenal attacks Gehrman had used against her. Though she was skilled with it, she could never shake the feeling that something was off and perhaps improving her connection to the Stars would fix it. Or the very least offer some clue as to the reason for it.

As the Huntress opened her eyes, she noticed a slight tug against her consciousness. It disappeared the moment she tried to focus on it. It had almost felt like...

She frowned, filing the incident away for later investigation. She stood up and thanked Eve before turning towards the door, "I'll see you later, Eve. I'm going to go do something I've wanted to do since I was a little girl."

"What would that be, Good Hunter?" Eve tilted her head questioningly.

The Huntress smiled, pulling the bag of seventy thousand gold coins from her shirt pocket. She held up the sack that Jet had tossed onto the ground while she was dealing with the Deltoras up for the Doll to see, "Buying myself a house."

* * *

The squeaking of its hinges made Brigid Montgomery look up from the ledger on his oak desk. He placed his quill down onto a white frilled cloth to his right, keeping his eyes focused on the red-haired boy who came through the door with a bulging sack in his hand. He leaned back in his chair as the young man marched up to his desk and tossed the brown bag onto the ledger. It jingled as it hit the table, indicating its contents. Brigid didn't reach for the bag, pushing his hands together while sharp brown eyes looked from it to the white-skinned teen in front of him.

When he spoke it was with a scratchy, confident tone indicating a life of unhealthy living, "Nick Mercer. Pray tell, what have you dropped onto my desk today?"

"You know damn well what it is," Nick said with a sneer, his flat nose scrunching up at the pungent smell of alcohol in the room, "Now take it and fuck off for a month like you always do."

"Still with that temper I see," Brigid clicks his tongue while pulling the bag of coins towards him, "You need to get that under control."

"Why? You put up with it just fine," Nick replied with a roll of his eyes.

Brigid brought out one of the gold coins, turning it around in his hand with a critical eye. He moved it back and forth in his hand while continuing to speak, "That is because I am a very generous and patient Land Lord. I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and trust that you will improve. Others might not be as generous. Especially if you behave this way around them."

"Whatever," Nick said while turning his back to Brigid, "You've got your money. Now stay off our case for a bit." He started walking back to the door.

"I am curious," Brigid leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk with one hand pulling at his black beard, "How is your sister doing?"

Nick stopped, his hands clenching as he turned back to the tanned skinned man, "None of your business."

"Has she given any thought to my offer?" he continued reveling in Nick's displeasure, "Does she have an answer for me?"

"Yeah she does," Nick placed a hand on his chin while looking up at the ceiling in thought, "I believe she said something along the lines of, 'Fuck off you perverted old bastard.'"

Brigid shook his head, a hand going to his braided hair, "I'd like to hear it from her, please. The condition still stands. If she agrees, then I will waive your rent for as long as she's employed."

"Cut the shit!" Nick hit the door behind him with a fist, his teeth grit and eyes ablaze with rage, "Everyone in the slums knows what you do to the girls you 'employ'! You're not doing that to Maggie. Not while I'm still breathing!"

Brigid merely stared the young man down with something callousness and annoyance. He placed the bag on his desk, put the coin back, and pushed it to the side, "Understood, Nick. I expect one hundred eighty coins by next month. Please tell your sister I said hello."

A knock on the door interrupted the indignant response Nick had prepared. He looked at the door behind him then back at Brigid. The older man waved him off dismissively while righting himself in his chair. Nick stared daggers at the Merchant for a few moments, before turning around and opening the door. He pushed past a black-clothed stranger, anger blinding him to the world.

As the door closed, the newcomer looked from the door to the Merchant behind his desk. Brigid shrugged while considering the stranger, his eyes trying to glean any standout features about them. He said, "A troublesome client. No need to worry. What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping you could assist me," a feminine voice replied as the stranger pulled out a sack much thicker than Nick's, "I'm looking to purchase a house, and was told to come to you."

Brigid nodded, surprised at the stranger's gender. Specifically, her choice of clothing. The women in the town, while modest, were not afraid to show off their bodies. Long skirts and blouses that accentuated the cleavage tended to be the norm, and no one was complaining about that. Least of all him. To wear clothes so restrictive that you could hardly tell if she was a man or a woman? She was likely from outside of Pran, though he didn't know of a place where that type of clothing was widespread.

"That I am," he leaned back in his chair, "Brigid Montgomery. Yourself?"

The stranger was silent for two moments. The Land Lord raised an eyebrow questioningly, "Ma'am?" The tricorn hat on her head covered her eyes, preventing him from spotting any change in emotion.

The client, after placing the coin bag on the desk, spoke with slight hesitation, "Cynthia. Cynthia Albion. It a pleasure to meet you."

She gave a small bow that Brigid returned. It was good to see someone with polite manners. Especially after having to deal with that Mercer boy. He grabbed his quill, dipped it into the inkwell, and pulled out a new scroll page for his ledger. He looked down at the scroll while speaking to Cynthia, "Well, Ms. Albion, I do have a few homes open for purchase. However, you must understand that owning one is not a simple matter. Buying one can be quite expensive," he couldn't stop his eyes from glancing at the bag of coins on his desk.

Cynthia tilted her head while waving towards the bag, "I am aware. That is why I made sure to count all seventy thousand gold coins. I wanted to be sure that...are you alright, sir Montgomery?"

Brigid had dropped the quill in his hand, the point of it leaving a black stain on the scroll below him. His mouth was agape in shock, while his hands shook with sudden realization.

The realization that he was dealing with a noble from the Order.

* * *

"And here we are, Mistress Albion," Brigid stopped in front of a two-story house, its walls painted white.

The Huntress, or Cynthia as the Merchant knew her, examined the house. Unlike many of the buildings around town, this one was made of cut stone. It was near the edge of the town to the east, with a single-window on the second floor below the triangular roof. There were two more on either side of the door, both looking at the small patches of grass that separated it from the main street.

Wordlessly, the Huntress approached the door and placed a hand on it. She caressed its surface, tracing along the small indentation within the wood. "This craftsmanship is...excellent," she said.

"Indeed," Brigid walked next to her and indicated the door, his slightly plump body jiggling as he walked, "But please, save your excitement for the inside my lady."

The Huntress stepped back so the Merchant could open the door. She followed behind him as he detailed the different rooms of the building, stopping in front of each as they passed, "This two-story home comes completely furnished to your liking. All the floors are covered with soft rugs made from hand-woven, knotted yarn. The living room on your right comes with three chairs, curtains, and a small wooden table. The kitchen is to your left and comes with all the utensils and dishes you might need to feed a large group of guests. The dining room is right next to the kitchen with a large wooden table big enough for six people including you.

He stopped at the end of the hallway in front of the stairs, pointing towards a door on the wall to his left, "The privy is there. I shall not go into details for the sake of sensibilities."

The Huntress raised an eyebrow under her Tricorn hat, though she understood why. How was he to know that she fought her way through a sewer filled with crawling dead bodies? At the time, she figured that was going to be the worst thing she ever did while moving through the city. Oh, how wrong she was.

Brigid started to walk up the steps, the rugs muffling the sound of his feet. The Huntress followed him up, stopping in front of the second-story window. He waved to his left, indicating four doors on both sides of the hallway, "Over here are the guest bedrooms each with a single person bed, one dresser, and a desk for any guest that plan on staying the night."

He marched to the right, stopping in front of a set of double doors with the same indents as the front door. He stepped aside and nodded to the Huntress. She thanked him as she walked forward and pushed the doors open.

Her mouth went wide behind her bandana as she gazed in amazement at the large room she was presented with. Brigid stepped forward and waved at the entire room, "As you can see, the Master Bedroom is extremely luxurious. The bed is big enough for yourself and at least five others if you wish to bring them, there is a large closet for all your clothes, and a desk complete with quill, inkwell, and parchment if you ever feel the need to write. What do you think, Lady Cynthia? Is everything to your liking?"

The Huntress could only nod as she slowly paced across the room, her eyes roaming the entire space. Based on her observations, the room was big enough to hold at least twenty people before reaching capacity. She took in a deep breath, letting the powerful scent of flowers and cleanliness flood her nose. She let it out slowly in a long, long sigh that felt good to let go. She didn't look at the Lord before asking, "Yes. Yes, yes it is. Could you...leave me for a moment, sir? I would like to...experience the room a bit more."

"As you wish," Brigid bowed, closing the door behind him as he walked out. The Huntress stepped over to the large bed. Its thick covers had a patchwork pattern on them, with a solid white color topped with various quilted symbols and emblems. She paused at its side, removed the glove from her right hand, and slowly pushed down on the fabric. The softness of the bed shot through her arm to her mind, bringing with it the knowledge of the last time she felt something so pliable. Involuntarily, she found herself almost leaping into the bed, digging her face into the equally fluffy pillows. Her hat flew off sending her recently cut short red hair shaking along with her movements.

The feelings she was experiencing weren't because she was impressed with the building. Though it may have been corrupted or tainted, she had seen far more breathtaking sights back in Yharnam. The cathedrals, catacombs, and more were all crafted with expert hands the likes of which few could match.

No, the emotions welling up inside of her were for a different, much more simple reason.

The fact that this whole house was hers.

For the first time in her life, she had a true home to call her own.

She pinched herself to make sure she wasn't still in Yharnam. That some Beast hadn't knocked her out and this was all a false reality her mind had created to keep her sane.

When nothing changed she gripped the pillow and sniffed it again, happiness filling her mind.

* * *

'So, this is Pran?' the stranger thought as she pushed her wide-brimmed hat down with one hand, placing the other against her hip as she walked. She could feel the various glances men stole at her butt and breasts as they bounced in the breeze. She smiled, spotting a young, red-haired man walk by with his head staring at his feet. She briefly entertained the idea of chasing after him but pushed it to the side...for now. Finding a man could come after she was better established in the community, and ascertained the position of her mother.

The thought of her mother made her shake her head with sadness. 'Worry not, mother. I will find you, and when I do, I will make you see the error of your ways! Only then can we truly be a family again.'

She placed a hand over her heart as she slowly folded into the masses around her. By the time the sun had set, she was already among them with none the wiser.


	11. Two Paths Cross

The Huntress' eyes creaked open. As light flooded her vision and she became aware of the unfamiliar, soft feeling against her body, she felt her body tense up. She threw the (suspiciously light) weight off her body, tucked and rolled to the side, and landed on the floor in a crouch. Her keen eyes quickly took in her surroundings while her hands went to her sides for her weapons. She quickly memorizes the placement of the bed she was in as possible cover, the window as an escape route if she needs it and the desk behind her as an impromptu...oh.

The tension in her body began to leave her. She carefully stood up, relaxed her hands, and went through her memories of the previous day. The tour of the house, her decision to purchase it, paying the Merchant the fifty thousand gold for the house, and finally signing the Deed under the alias. She was lucky Gehrman had obtained the book on cursive writing and that she bothered to learn it. If she hadn't, she likely wouldn't have been able to provide proof that the house was hers.

That last thought made her freeze in place.

That's right. This was her house now.

...She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment as she realized she was about to destroy her own bedroom. Thankful there was no one to see her...outburst, she went about fixing the sheets on her bed. She sighed while patting down the patchwork cover on the bed. In celebration of finally gaining a place to truly call her own, she had forgone going to the Dream during the night. Her body and mind had grown used to losing itself to the Dream when she closed her eyes. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling. It was simply a side effect of her battle through Yharnam. Being sent back every time she died, retreating from a bad engagement with a Bold Hunter's Mark, or using a lamp to return to the Workshop for extra bullets and vials.

However, while fruitful, going to the Dream was never what she considered...restful. Though she always came back refreshed and ready for whatever came next, something was always missing. Some human element of it that she had thought long lost to her ever since her transfusion. Another shattered part of her humanity, cast aside into the dark abyss of her mind.

But now?

Now she had a real home to call her own. And sleeping in the bed was a perfect way to fully cement that fact while going a long way towards breaking her habit of entering the Dream. And it did work...after she found herself at the Workshop once...or twice. She had made progress, at least.

She patted down her bed, marveling at how soft the...her mattress was. The last time she slept on something even approaching a bed was when she was a little girl living off the...

She frowned at the memory, shook her head while rubbing her cheeks, took a deep breath, and let it out in a relieved sigh. Now's not the time for thinking about the past. Now's the time to look to the future. She has her own house now, and this was her first night sleeping in her own bed. This is a new day!

And today she's going to...um.

Her expression fell as she placed a hand on her chin. She walked to the center of her room, eyes roaming her room with confusion.

"What exactly should I do?"

* * *

"Sorry, Nick," Harlod placed down this hammer and shook his head. Black soot fell from his beard as he used his tongs to lift the still burning iron from his anvil. He gently placed it into the water barrel on his left, steam billowing up from it as the metal was submerged. He kept his gaze on his work while he responded to the young man, "Don't have any gold to spare for you."

"Really? Harlod?" Nick leaned back on the barrel he was on, his tattered and stained white jerkin bunching up around his arms. He crossed his legs, equally tattered brown trousers wrinkling as he did, "You've gotta have something. You always do."

"Not this time," the older man pulled the metal out, scrutinized it for a moment, before grunting in displeasure and putting it to the side, "Need to save as much as we can. Lescatie's fall has finally started hitting us and there's no telling if I'll be able to make enough to support my wife, my son, and you. Please understand."

Nick raised a hand while giving the blacksmith a small smile, "Don't worry, old friend. I get it. Family comes first, after all."

He hopped off the barrel, his auburn hair bobbing along with his movements. He winked towards Harlod while walking off into the city streets, "Wish I could stay, but duty calls. Can't let Mags be our only source of income now, can I? Make sure to name the kid after me!"

Harlod let out a hearty laugh, "I'll do that, as soon as you get an actual job! I'm still looking for an apprentice you know!"

But Nick was already gone, disappeared into the bustling city streets. He had ducked into one of the many alleys that acted as the boundary between the main part of Pran, and the Slums, his home. Nick waited until he was sure no one had followed him, then punched a wooden wall in frustration.

"Damn it," his palm went to his face, a frown creasing his features, "Not even Harlod could help me." Harlod was the third stop on his daily routine of begging. He wasn't proud of it, but it was the only real way for him to make any income. Maggie's statues and trinkets were nice, but they weren't bringing in enough gold. Especially, since their Land Lord kept upping their rent every month.

Nick could hear his teeth grinding at the mere thought of that bastard. Nick was many things, but he prided himself on his wit. He knew why the rent seemed to keep getting higher. It was the same trick most scum in the slums used: raise the rent, then "offer new methods of paying." Nick had seen Montgomery pull the same trick with two previous female tenants. They had lived near their house, and came by sometimes to play with Marcus. When they accepted Montgomery's offer was when he started to notice the changes. They would dress differently, come home late, hobble instead of walk, and eventually refused to come out of their homes entirely.

If that motherfucker thought he would let him do that to Maggie, he had another thing coming! Nick wanted to knock the son of a bitch's teeth out...but he couldn't. If he hit first, Brigid would be able to pin the blame on him. He'd make use of whatever dirty trick he had to ensure Nick's reputation was in complete shambles. Nick wouldn't put it past the fat fuck to bribe the guards to get him thrown in jail. Then how would he protect Maggie and Marcus?

Normally, Brigid's rent manipulation wouldn't be a problem. But the loss of Lescatie, while not devastating, was starting to affect the town's commerce. Harlod saying no wasn't a good sign. Maybe those rumors of people planning to leave Pran weren't complete crap. Would explain why the tailor and carpenter Nick had visited looked so busy. The Frontier had moved up, and people wanted to get as far away from it as possible.

Unfortunately, that made Nick's situation all the worse. He cursed while thinking about his next move. He had more people to talk to, but there was now a high likelihood of getting turned away. Going from person to person only to come up empty-handed did not sound good to him. Maybe he could wait until the afternoon. He noticed people tended to be more generous when...wait.

He stopped walking and listened intently to his surroundings. Separated from the distracting sounds of the masses, he managed to pick out a single sound. A familiar one.

The hiss of steel being drawn from leather.

"Oh fuck," Nick said out loud. He shook his head while turning around to see a familiar face. He put on a fake smile as three teens about his age advanced down the alley he was in. He put both his hands in his pockets and said, "Revor! Good to see you, again! How ya been?"

"Fine," the middle young man replied nasally, twirling a knife in his right hand. His smooth, leather jerkin matched his trousers, not a single wrinkle on his clothes as he walked. At his sides walked two identical boys each with a knife in their hands. They stopped halfway to Nick with sneers on their faces. Revor pointed his knife towards Nick, hand going to the crooked nose on his face, "But I'll be a lot better once I pay you back for this!"

"Riiight," Nick nodded along, his eyes taking in his environment. He gathered up some saliva and spat it onto the ground, "Normally I'd mention the last two times you tried this same song and dance, but to honest, I got some shit to work through. And since punching a wall isn't very effective, I'll use you instead."

Revor stepped forward but stopped when the boy on his left barred his way with an arm. The young man spoke with a low, professional tone, "The boss is willing to offer you one last chance, Nick. Join the Vipers and we'll take care of everything. Montgomery won't be a problem anymore."

"Gee, that sounds great. I'd be more inclined to listen if it wasn't coming from three armed men who had to corner me so I'd listen."

"You're not an easy man to talk to," the boy on Revor's right spoke up. Nick winced at his high pitched voice, "The last guy we sent came back with broken ribs."

Nick shrugged, "Hey, if your boss wants me to join his gang, maybe he should stop sending stab happy morons who can't take a hint. Or, here's a thought, he could come talk to me himself. Unless he's too busy to talk to an old friend nowadays?"

"Why should he bother with trash like you?!" Revor shouted, trying to get past his comrade's arm, "You're fucking trash digging through scraps compared to him!"

"Won't deny that," Nick stepped to his right and picked up a stray rock. It wasn't much bigger than his hand, but it would do, "But I was hoping he'd remember he used to be trash too. Back in the day. But enough about the past. Let's get down to business. Any of you know how to play catch?"

Before any of them could answer Nick threw the rock right at the boy on the left. He didn't wait to see if hit. He turned on his heel and booked it towards the opposite end of the alleyway. He knew this place better than any of those chumps. All he needed to do was get through the exit, lose them in the market crowd, then turn a few corners and he'd be home free. He focused his eyes on the gathering of people beyond the buildings on his left and right...only to skid to a halt as two boys stepped in to block his path.

His eyes went wide as the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Quickly, he ducked in time to dodge a swipe from behind him. Spinning on his heel he slammed a fist into Ravor's stomach, sending the armed man reeling. He placed his back against the wall to his right and raised his fist as his assailants closed in. His eyes were defiant as he stared the gang members down. Briefly, he remembered what Maggie had said to him just yesterday when she got home.

He chuckled and shouted to the boys, "Well! Come on then! Let's see which one of you has got the balls to bring me down!"

The boy he had thrown the rock at, blood streaming down his forehead, yelled and aimed his knife at Nick's side. Nick stepped into the attack, readying an uppercut to the larger boy's jaw...

...Only for everyone to freeze and Ravor yelled out in pain.

Nick eyed the exit as his attackers turned their attention to Ravor's scream. He turned to see who his rescuer was...only to feel his body freeze in its tracks at the sight of the seven-foot-tall, black-clothed stranger holding Ravor up by his arm.

* * *

The Huntress stared down at the young man struggling in her grip. She held the hand with the knife by the wrist, squeezing with just enough pressure to stop him from slipping away. He thrashed about, shouting obscenities while attempting to strike his captor with his legs and free arm. They swung futilely through the air while the Huntress turned her gaze to the rest of the boys.

The four who froze at the sight of her were likely working together. Possibly a gang of thieves or some such. The young man they had pressed up against the wall must have done something to draw their ire, probably something to do with her captive's broken nose. Their clothes were relatively well maintained with no holes or obvious tears anywhere. That meant they were well-financed and could afford to clothed their members. They could arm them with basic weapons as well if the knives were any indication. Whoever led this band of ruffians knew what they were doing.

That made things a bit complicated.

The Huntress sighed, shaking her head as her captive shouted to his allies, "Why are you idiots standing there?! Get this fucker off me!"

His companions now snapped out of their stupor, started advancing on the Huntress. The tallest of the group stayed behind to prevent the citizen from escaping while they weren't looking. The Huntress' eyes narrowed. Looks she would have to improvise.

When the three thieves were a few feet away, she let go of her captive's arm. As he fell from her grip, she placed a hand on the back of his head and pushed it towards the hard ground. A wet, crunching sound made his companions step back in surprise. She didn't waste the opening, kicking off the ground towards the middle thief. She stood up straight and stared the young man down while he gasped in fear for a few moments.

He sneered, attempting to stab the Huntress in her kidney. She deftly knocked his arm to the side and shoved her knee into his stomach. She grabbed his shoulder as he bent double and brought him around to her right. With a single kick, she launched him into the enemy on her right. As both of them fell to the ground she felt a sharp pain on her left side. Her eyes met the thug on her left's, as he smiled while holding his knife.

That smile slowly disappeared, his mouth opening in horror as the Huntress simply grabbed the handle of the small blade. She slowly pulled it out while keeping her eyes on his rapidly paling face. Once the knife was out of her body, she shoved the boy to the ground and turned to the address them all. She spoke with a calm, cold, firm voice, "I'm giving you all one chance to run away. I'd suggest you take it, else I start breaking your bones."

The three gang members scrambled to their feet and ran for the exit. They shoved past their "leader", pushing him down as they tried to get away from the terrifying stranger. The leader sneered at the Huntress, blood seeping through the gaps in the hand he held over his face. He waved his knife at her as if to say, "This isn't over! You'll pay for this! You'll see!" Then he turned and ran alongside the rest of his men.

The Huntress turned around, planning to assist the cornered young man...only to stop and stare as he punched the taller boy in the face. His arms were bleeding, but he kept up his assault, knocking the knife from the taller boy's hand. He didn't let up, hooking his foot behind the bigger lad's heal. His foe fell to the floor barely avoiding hitting his head on the cold cobblestone below. He moved his arms up to protect his face from the red-haired young man. The thug could do nothing as a hail of blows descended upon his head. His arms soon gave way, and one good hit to his temple made his eyes roll into the back of his head.

Breathing heavily the young man stood up, rubbing his chin with a bloody hand, then spat a glob of blood onto the unconscious assailant's face. He stepped towards the Huntress, looking up at her with an appreciative smile, "Didn't think I would make it out of that one. Thanks for your help."

The Huntress nodded, "You are most welcome, sir. But, if you don't mind my asking, why were those thieves attacking you."

"Why else?" he shrugged, "They thought I was an easy mark. I told them to fuck off, and they didn't take kindly to it. Why did you decide to help me?"

The Huntress matched his shrug, "I was heading to the market to purchase some food for dinner when I spotted the first three ruffians duck into this alleyway. I saw the glint of the sunlight on their knives and decided to follow them. It seems to be a good thing I did. Also, your arms are bleeding. I can take care of it if you wish."

"Ah, a good samaritan? Don't get many of those these days. And don't worry about the cuts. They're shallow and should heal on their own. Thanks for the offer though," the boy nodded while crossing his arms. His eyes narrowed as he took a step forward, "You look...familiar. Do I know you from some...Oh, hey!

He pointed at the Huntress' clothes, "You're the one who came into Montgomery's place after me!"

The Huntress tilted her head in confusion, memories of her visit to the Merchant flashing past her eyes. She stopped at the thought of the young man who pushed past her as she entered. A quick comparison confirmed what the young man said. She chuckled slightly, "And you're the boy who was leaving just as I arrived. This world certainly behaves in strange ways."

"Ain't that the truth. Names Nick, by the way," he held his right hand out for a shake, which the Huntress returned. Then he turned around and started to walk away, "Thanks again for the help. Love to stick around, but I've got to go to work. Hope to see you again sometime."

"A moment," the Huntress called, stopping the boy in his tracks. He tilted his head back to look at her as she spoke, "I was at sir Montgomery's as I was looking to purchase a home. I have just moved in here, and do not know my way around town. Could you, perhaps, be my guide? Simply for today."

"Hmmmn," Nick turned so his left side was facing towards the Huntress, "if you're new, why not go get one of the guards? They hardly do anything 'cept sit around and get drunk. I'm sure you'd give them a reason to get off their asses."

The Huntress nodded, "True, but it's clear you know your way around Pran better than they ever could. Why else would you be traveling down this alleyway? Most people would avoid going to a place where they could be ambushed or robbed as you almost were."

Nick was silent for a time with his eyes roaming the Huntress' body. She watched as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, obviously debating if it would be worth it to accept her request. Eventually, he turned to face her fully, "Ok, but I'll need some compensation. Times are pretty tough for the downtrodden like myself. You understand, I hope?"

Under normal circumstances, the Huntress would mind. She'd bring up how she could've left well enough alone and let him die in the backstreets from blood loss. But she didn't.

Because she did understand.

The boy's tattered shirt and pants, blue eyes that had seen more than any child should ever see, the way he brought down an opponent a good foot taller than him, the confident way he carried himself. Everything about him reminded her of the childhood she left behind. Going entire weeks without even a loaf of bread to eat, having to fight five orphans at a time when the gangs tried to take her food, having to run when the bigger gangs started to make moves.

She understood his plight all too well.

She nodded, "I understand. How much will it cost?

"How much you willing to spend?"

"Would five hundred gold be sufficient?"

Nick stared at the Huntress for a brief moment. Then he chuckled, "Heh. Good one. Five hundred gold, hah! No, seriously, how much are you willing to spend?"

"Five hundred gold," the Huntress repeated without a hint of sarcasm, "My home only cost me fifty thousand, so I plenty left over. Though I only brought one thousand with me when I left."

Nick stood there and stared at the strange woman standing before him. He waited with bated breath for her to drop the other shoe. To say she was joking, or to try and hide a giggle behind her gloved hand. Anything that would prove she was lying to him.

She never did.

The gears in his mind began to turn just as his jaw hit the floor.


	12. A Short Trip To The Slums

Micheal flinched as Brigid slammed his tankard of ale on the wooden table. A belch erupted from the bearded man, who drunkenly laughed while reaching for another full mug to his right. When his hand grasped the handle he quickly brought it to his lips. The foam fell down the side of his chin as he drank deeply of the brew.

Micheal, his green coat sleeves bunching up as he placed his elbows on the table, coughed into his hand before speaking, "Sir, is it wise to be spending our recent gains in this manner?"

Brigid froze in place, tankard halfway to his mouth. His eyes moved to Micheal's sharp, bespectacled eyes. A sneer that made the younger man scratch at the stubble on his cheek slowly crept across his face. He methodically placed his drink back on the table, licked the stray droplets of ale from his lips, then placed his hands together with a heavy sigh, "Care to elaborate, Micheal?"

Micheal moved a hand through his spiky black hair, sweat dripping down the back of his neck into his collar, "Well, sir, we˗̶"

"I."

Micheal blinked twice, meeting his mentor's eyes, "Pardon me?"

"You were about to say 'we recently received a large sum of money" correct? That is incorrect. You have not, and will not receive any profits from this business until your apprenticeship is completed. Profit does not go to 'us', it goes to 'me'," Brigid said, clearly enjoying his apprentice's increasing nervousness.

Micheal readjusted himself in his seat, clearing his throat once before continuing, "Erm, yes. You, sir, received a large sum of money from a recent client and are currently spending said gains on alcohol."

"Yes," Brigid leaned back on his side of the booth, "And?"

"It just seems...wasteful," Micheal spread his arms out for emphasis, accidentally hitting a serving girl in her thigh as she walked past. He hurriedly apologized and waved her along, returning the smile she sent his way, before turning back to his mentor, "Many of ou...your properties require repairs and renovations. Many clients have complained about the poor condition of their abodes, and have threatened to withhold payment lest something is done.

His mentor lazily nodded along as Micheal continued, "Additionally, some of our clientele have been accosted by a group calling themselves 'The Vipers'. They have supposedly been extorted, beaten when they refused to comply, and had their family members kidnapped and forced into the gang."

"And, where are you going with this?" Brigid's eyes were focused on the foyer of the inn, following after the skirts of the barmaids and serving girls.

"I've done the math, sir," Micheal took a scroll from the inside of his coat and carefully opened it up, a smile growing on his face, "It should cost you no more than three thousand gold to accomplish renovations and two thousand to ask the guards to assist with the Vipers. With the fifty thousand you earned yesterday, and the thirty thousand you have in savings, you have more than enough to accomplish this before the end of the day."

Micheal's smile faltered when he saw his mentor's unamused expression. He nervously rolled his scroll up before placing it back in his coat, then waiting on Brigid's reply.

"Micheal," Montgomery spoke with little humor, his head being held up by his right hand, "what have I told you is the purpose of currency?"

"To be spent," Micheal replied with an obvious lack of enthusiasm.

"And who, pray tell, has the right to spend it?"

"The one who has earned it."

"And who earned all the money you are speaking of?"

Underneath the lip of the table, Micheal's hands were shaking as he balled them into fists and bit his lip. Brigid raised an eyebrow before the younger man replied, "You did, sir."

"Exactly," Montgomery reached forward and patted his apprentice on the head, "I did. I earned every coin from both those morons wasting their lives in hovels they will never leave, and I sold the house on the edge of town to that fine noblewoman. As such, I am the one who has the right to decide how I spend it."

"But, sir!" Micheal stood up, knocking Brigid's hand off his head, "Shouldn't you try and improve the buildings and land you own with that money? If the Lady saw the sorry state of your other properties, surely she'd be inclined to rescind her purchase."

Brigid nodded but didn't seemed perturbed at his apprentice's outburst, "Well done, Micheal. You have retained some of what I've taught you. However, your hypothetical situation will never come about. I will make sure of it.

Brigid finished his remaining tankard with a single swig before standing up, placing a hand on Micheal's shoulder, and smiling with his eyes closed, "You'd be surprised how easy it is to keep the upper class from noticing those below them. Now, if you'll excuse me, I shall be seeking companionship for the night. Please return to the office before me and ensure the ledgers are in order before I get back."

Brigid was gone before Micheal could utter a reply. The young man watched his mentor leave out the door, leaving a sack of gold to pay for the drinks with the Innkeeper. Once he was gone, Micheal slumped against his seat. He sighed in frustration, shaking his head at the negligence of his "teacher". If he had learned anything from his apprenticeship, it was what not to do once it was over. More often than not it felt like he was teaching himself. Constantly fielding complaints, writing and checking the ledgers, and cleaning the office when Montgomery went out for "companionship". He felt more like a servant than an apprentice.

He could always leave, but Montgomery was the only Land Owner in town. The others had packed their bags and left the moment news spread that Lescatie had fallen. He'd have to head to the city if he wanted a new mentor, and he couldn't abandon the people in the slums. He had seen the ledgers and counted the gold multiple times. He knew Brigid was bleeding them dry, but what could he do? It was his word against Montgomery's and he was a simple apprentice. The only thing he could do was hold on until he became a full-fledged Merchant, hope the gold he had been saving was enough, and buy his mentor out. It wasn't the best or quickest solution...but it was all he had.

His hands came up to his face as he shook his head in shame. If there's was something better he could do, he'd do it. But as it stood ̶

"Pardon me, sir," a light voice said, followed by the sound of someone sliding into the other side of the booth, "Is this seat taken?"

Micheal moved his hands away from his face...then immediately looked towards the floor. He felt his cheeks head up as he tried not to stare at the scantily clad woman in front of him. He managed to stutter out, "N-n-not at all. Pl-please s-s-sit down.

He pushed his glasses up onto his face while looking down at the floor. A giggle from across the table made him look up into the deep, purple eyes of the woman before him. He found himself briefly transfixed by her appearance, before shaking his head and taking a deep breath to clear his thoughts, "Sorry, ma'am. How may I help you?"

"I was sitting in the booth over here," she pointed a black-gloved thumb behind her back, a matching short cape following her movements, "and couldn't help but overhear your conversation. I was hoping to ask you some questions if you wouldn't mind."

She leaned down, her black, cropped shirt bunching up around her breasts, accentuating them too much to be unintentional. Micheal gulped while wiping sweat from his brow with his sleeve in an attempt to keep his composure, "N-not at all. What would you like to know?"

"I heard one of you mention something about a noblewoman who recently came to town. Could you tell me what you know about her, and possibly where the house she bought is?"

Micheal was about to refuse until the girl started to pout in the cutest way he had ever seen. He felt his heart skip a beat, looking away to compose himself again. He turned back to her with a nervous chuckle, "Well, my mentor says I shouldn't give information on clients out to strangers...but..."

* * *

The Huntress frowned at the sight in front of her.

"And the last stop on our little tour. My stomping grounds, the perpetual black stain on the face of Pran, the Slums!"

Nick waved a hand in front of him, slowly moving it across the area before them. Broken and rundown buildings littered both sides of the street. There were holes in the rooftops, shattered windows, missing or broken doors, not single building had been spared from the ravages of time. The cobblestones in the road were cracked or missing, leaving large black holes in their place.

"It's not exactly a welcoming place," Nick shrugged with a smile, "but it's home to me." He started walking down the street, beckoning the Huntress to come along. She followed in his wake, slowly moving her head left and right to fully observe the abject poverty around her.

The people were a reflection of their surroundings. Not a single person wore clothes without some hint of damage. Some stumbled around with their heads hung low, eyes focused on nothing more than the cold ground beneath their bare feet. Others walked fast and light, holding something to their chest while their heads darted back and forth. These avoided the alleys between buildings, crossing the street just to bypass them.

Nick looked up at her, trying to see her eyes under her hat, "There's a shortcut through here that will get us to the Market in record time. I hope you don't mind us passing through all this squalor, my Lady."

Confusion lit up Nick's face as the Huntress shook her head, "Not at all, Nick. In fact, I'd be delighted to accompany you on a full tour of this section at a later date."

"Ooookkkk," Nick stood up straight, placing his hands in his pockets as he stared at the Huntress. He focused his eyes in front of them, his pupils scanning the entire area as they walked. He unconsciously moved to the left side of the street, waving to any faces he recognized as they passed by. Some waved back with friendly smiles, while others keep their heads down.

"I've been meaning to ask," he turned to the Huntress, watching as her gaze lingered on an unmoving man leaning against a dilapidated wall, "How did you scare off Revor and the others? I was too busy beating down the big asshole in front of me to see what happened."

The Huntress turned to him and shrugged, "Nothing spectacular. I incapacitated their leader, then knocked two of them two the ground, and disarmed the last one after he stabbed me."

"You got stabbed?" Nick asked with genuine concern, "Shouldn't we get that looked at?"

"Borrowing a phrase from a certain someone, 'It's shallow. It will heal on its own.'" the Huntress imitated Nick's voice as best she could. The young man looked towards the cobblestones, admitting that she had a point. She smiled beneath her bandana, "Thank you for your concern though."

"No problem, my Lady," Nick said as they rounded a corner, "I couldn't exactly...oh no.

At the sight of a woman in tattered robes on the side of the road with two children at her side, Nick moved his right hand to the side of his face, increasing his pace, "Move quickly and do not make eye contact."

"Why...oh," the Huntress deliberately stopped in front of the sitting woman, looking down at her with an unreadable expression. Nick's palm hit his face just as the woman started to push herself up. Her legs wobbled as she pulled the children, a boy and a girl, to their feet with her.

The woman coughed a bit, speaking in a raspy voice, "Please, ma'am. Spare some time for a suffering old woman."

Nick came over the Huntress' left side and beckoning to her with a hand. He only came up to her chest, so she had to bend down to hear him whisper, "I know this woman and she ain't old. Got here a couple of months of go dragging those kids with her. Puts 'em for sale, but they always seem to come back to her. Trust me, it'd be better if we leave now before she ropes you into it."

The woman looked between Nick and the Huntress with faint hope twinkling in her eye, her mouth missing numerous teeth as she spoke, "These children are completely healthy, I promise! The boy's young and strong, and the girl's got the prettiest eyes! They'll do anything you ask of them, won't you?"

The two children nodded, their eyes focused on the ground below them. The Huntress could see their ribs through the tattered jerkins they wore. Their feet had dirt and cuts all over them, and their hands could barely close from the bruises that peppered their skin. Their matted, matching black hair covered their eyes, preventing her from seeing their expressions.

The Huntress didn't answer, causing obvious concern to come over the woman's face. Nick took note of the various eyes watching them from the shadows in the alleyways and across the street. Depending on how his client reacted to this, their tour could get a bit more difficult.

After what felt like a minute, the Huntress knelt to be level with the woman. She reached into her coat and took out her bag filled with coins. The woman's eyes lit up as the Huntress shook coins out into the palm of her other hand. Once she was done, she put up her bag and held her hand out to the cloaked woman, "This is two hundred gold coins. Would this be enough to purchase your children?"

The woman quickly let go of the kids' hands, almost yanking the money out of the Huntress' palm. She backed away while staring at the shining coins with reverence, "All yours, ma'am! I don't even know their names!

She leered at the children, a devious smile on her face, "You hear that kids! You're her's now! Get outta here, go!"

The boy and girl lazily stepped towards the Huntress as she stood up. They stood at her sides and gripped onto her left and right fingers in unison. The Huntress nodded to Nick and the young man returned it before continuing on their original path. Once they were far enough away from the woman, he said, "Rather noble of you, but I hope you understand that you just made yourself a target."

"You speak of the Vipers?" the Huntress already knew the answer.

Nick nodded with a grim look on his face, "Those assholes thrive here, preying on unsuspecting travelers, people who get lost on their way home, or the easy targets that litter this place. I don't fault you for helping those two, but you essentially just confirmed that you're a good mark for them. There was no way they weren't watching that exchange."

"I understand, but wouldn't word have spread about me defeating four of their members?" she noticed the children at her side were stumbling along, so she lifted them onto her shoulders. She could tell they were surprised by how both their heads started darting from side to side, wondering at their new height.

She felt relief in her heart. There was still time to save them.

"Not likely," Nick's voice was dark as he placed a hand on his chin, "Razor's not that high up on the ladder, and his gang is a recent addition to them. It'll take a bit before word about you spreads to here."

"You seem to know much about this group," the Huntress ventured.

Nick shrugged, "When you live in the Slums, you gotta know these things. It keeps you alive. Ah, here it is!" He stopped in front of a building with part of its wall broken in. He glanced around before stepping over the debris into it, "If we cut through here, we'll reach the Market in no time. Gonna need to watch your step though, there are a lot of...what are you doing?"

Nick felt a pit form in his stomach as the Huntress handed the children to him. All three stared at the black-clothed woman, who stood up straight and turned to face the way they had come. She spoke in a matter of fact tone, "Dealing with the issue you brought up. Take the children to the Market and wait for me, please. I'll be sure to compensate you for it."

"You're not actually...are you fucking insane?" Nick said while placing the children on the dust-covered floor, "Scaring off four random punks is one thing. You're going to fight those guys on their home turf! They'll have the numbers and the home field advantage! You'll be slaughtered!"

The Huntress turned towards him, reached out a hand, and patted his head. He jumped back, hands going to his head in confusion. The Huntress chuckled and spoke, "Thank you for worrying about me, Nick. You're a wonderful guide.

She knelt to be eye level with the two children, "Both of you be nice while I'm gone, ok? When I get back, I'll bring you to your new home. I promise."

They both took a step forward, but Nick pulled them back by their shoulders. The Huntress nodded to him, then ran off into the Slums.

"Crazy fucker," Nick mumbled under his breath while turning the children to face him, "Come on you scamps. She told me to get you to the Market, and damned if Nick Mercer doesn't finish a job."

* * *

The Huntress stopped when she came to the wall that marked the end of the alleyway. To her left and right were similar walls, meaning the only way out was from whence she came.

And, as if on cue, she heard the telltale sound of leather hitting someone's palm.

She calmly turned around, spotting six people entering the alley in a single file line. They spread out as they came, covering all possible corners to ensure she couldn't escape. All of them wore much finer clothing than the other residents of this area. They wielded brown leather clubs with a rope tied to the handles and their left wrist to ensure they couldn't be easily disarmed. They each had the emblem of two snakes hissing at each other somewhere on their bodies. A symbol of their induction into the gang no doubt.

The last one to enter stepped to the side to let in a familiar cloaked figure. The person pushed her hood back, revealing a feminine face with a mouth filled with holes where her teeth used to be. The tallest gang member titled his head towards the Huntress, and the lady vigorously nodded, "Yep, that's her! She's the one who took my kids! She's an evil, evil witch! Threatened to kill me if I didn't take the money."

She spat on the ground as the man turned to the Huntress, "Kidnapping kids isn't something we let happen around here. Us downtrodden gotta watch out for each other, you know?"

"Can we please skip the subterfuge?" the Huntress' response made both the gang member and his accomplice frown, "I'm well aware of how this works. I came here to ask if any of you would consider letting this all end peacefully, rather than shed any blood?"

The laughter from those around her was her answer. One of the gang members to her left, a young girl by the sound of it, spoke up, "Do you know where you are, bitch? Blood is one of the only currencies we accept here!"

As the crowd began to roar, the Huntress looked towards the ground. She spoke in a voice that sounded like a low growl, "I see. Then, I have one last question.

The Rakuyo fell from her sleeve into her palm. The Vipers jumped back as she snapped the two halves apart into a blade and dagger. She looked up, staring the woman who sold her the children dead in the eyes as she asked, "Does your blood count?"

Within the blink of an eye, the Huntress cleaved one of the gang member's arms off.

Their echoing screams went ignored in the dirty, dark alleyway of the Slums.

* * *

Nick sat cross-legged on the cobblestone street, his eyes focused on the orange sky above. He looked between it and the children at his sides. Both were looking around in awe at the number of people wandering around the Market at this hour. It was likely neither of them had ever been out of the Slums long enough to experience a crowded street before. As he watched their heads swivel back and forth, a memory floated to the surface of his mind. Of a time when he was the only one able to defend Maggie from the bastards that prowled the Slums and the Main Streets. He spent many a day beating people down and getting beat down for the sake of his family. Could say that those fights are what molded him into who he is today.

And now he was looking at it from the outside.

Life sure has a funny way of making you remember important crap.

"Hey, kid," he said to the boy on his left. He placed a finger on the lad's head, "You're gonna have a real mom now, but don't get complacent. You'll be the only man in the house, meaning it'll be down to you to keep your sister safe. Don't let anyone touch her without going through you first. Got it?

The kid nodded in agreement, though Nick wasn't sure if the lad understood. He smiled and tossled the boy's hair, "That's the spirit. If you ever need help, come find me. I'll whip you into shape."

For the first time since he saw him, the boy smiled up at Nick. Nick returned it...until a familiar smell of iron made his nose wrinkle.

Instinctively, he bolted up while scooping the kids into his arms. He turned towards the alley he had just came from...and felt his mouth gape open at the sight of his client, covered head to toe in blood.

The crimson ichor dripped wherever she went, leaving a bloody trail of footprints behind her. She spotted Nick and he felt the overwhelming urge to run away as fast as he could right there and then. However, something kept him rooted to the spot, his teeth chattering as the seven-foot-tall woman got closer.

Her shadow fell over him, his heart entered his throat as her arms reached out from him...and her hands revealed an assortment of gold coins.

"This is your compensation for taking the children," her voice was surprisingly soothing despite the blood dripping from her clothes, "A hundred gold coins. I'd give you more, but I must save some to buy food for dinner."

With a shaky hand, Nick slowly took the coins then held the children out to his client. She carefully took them into her arms, deliberately attempting to keep the blood from staining their clothes.

She bowed as best she could to him, "Thank you for your guidance, Nick. I'll be sure to come to visit you whenever I have the chance.

The people gave her a wide berth as she started to walk away, some even running off while shouting for the guards. She stopped and turned back to address Nick, "I do not believe I have given you my name. It is Cynthia. Cynthia Albion. Goodbye, Nick."

Unable to think of anything else to do, Nick awkwardly waved to Cynthia as she disappeared into the town.

Once she was out of sight, he started racing back through his shortcut.

He had to get home. He had to tell Maggie had happened.

And how all their troubles were over.

* * *

A halfbreed Mamono, her body camouflaged by the shadows cast by the setting sun, watched as a figure walked up to the immaculate house at the edge of Pran. Their body was soaked from head to toe in a red liquid that, based on the smell in the air, was human blood. They carried two children in their arms as they took out the key to the home and entered the building.

With a determined look on her face, she stepped into the light and approached the home...with her blade drawn.


	13. An Unwanted House Guest

'This...may have been a rash decision.'

The Huntress' rubbed her chin as her eyes moved between the two children she had rescued from the Slums. She had brought them to the living room and sat them down in two of the chairs. She had closed the curtains as it was getting dark out, then turned her attention to the kids themselves.

Specifically, what she was going to do with them.

Buying them, while something she felt immensely proud of, was driven by emotional impulse rather than any logical thinking. The sight of two children being sold on the street, their feet and hands likely covered in blisters as they were thrown around like pieces of meat. Her carefully curated ability to rationalize the proper path forward was driven to the back of her mind. In its place was an urge to get those children out of there, and make any who came for her understand why that would be an extremely poor decision on their part.

True it wasn't the first time such an impulse had driven her to act since coming here, but the other times had been tempered with logical thinking. The only exceptions to this were when she faced the werewolves and when the Banshee had brought the cubs to her. And now she could add this to that growing pile.

She bit her lip as she moved her gaze from the boy to the girl, trying to figure out what she should do. An idea came to her as she focused on the dirt and filth covering their bodies. A bath would be perfect for this. She could get to know the children while washing them down and ensuring they were...oh wait...

This wasn't Yharnam.

She'd have to find a river and get water to bathe them.

She started to bring her right hand up to her head but paused as something caught her eye. Specifically, the fact that her pure white glove was painted crimson. The gears in her mind started to turn as she looked from her glove to the children sitting in front of her.

Then the realization finally hit her.

She was still covered in blood from her fight with the Vipers.

That...isn't good.

She coughed into her hand speaking in a calm voice, "Ok, children. This is your new home. Feel free to explore and run around. I need to go freshen up. The privy is to the left of the stairs, don't open the door for strangers, and don't come upstairs until I return. Understood?"

The children nodded, the Huntress did the same, then she walked out of the room with her arms behind her back. She kept walking until she opened the double doors that led to her room. Then she went to the middle of the room, sat down, closed her eyes, and thought of the Dream.

* * *

"Good Hunter," Eve stood up from a grave she was tending as the Huntress' body materialized at the bottom of the stairs. She bowed to her friend, 'Welcome home. How was your-"

The Huntress ran past her friend so quickly, that the Doll's clothes briefly lifted off the ground.

A few seconds later, the Huntress dashed back out and shouted, "Hello, Eve!" The blood gone from her clothes, she gave her friend a quick hug before dashing through the Workshop doors, "Can't talk. Needed to get my clothes fixed."

"Oh?" Eve said questioningly.

The Huntress sat down in the rocking chair, preparing herself to return to her home, "I went to the Slums. Rescued two children. Had to kill some gang members. Blood was still on my clothes when I brought the kids home and...oh shit!"

The Huntress stood up, hands going to her head as she started pacing around the room, "I forgot to buy the food! Oh, what am I gonna make for dinner now?! Wait...do I even know how to cook?"

She charged to the books on the shelves and started pulling them from the wall at a rapid pace, making sure to place them back once she had read the cover, "Eve! Did Gehrman keep any books about cooking? Or child-rearing? Or...anything about being a parent?!"

The Huntress kept looking at books, going to great lengths to restrain herself from tossing them to the floor, until a comforting hand touched her shoulder. Instantly, all the tension and worry she was feeling evaporated. A misty haze cleared from her eyes as she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She turned to her companion and nodded, "Thank you, my friend. I was overreacting."

Eve took her hand away from the Huntress' shoulder, bowing as she said, "If what you seek is within the Workshop, why not ask the little ones? They would be overjoyed to be of service to you."

"The Messengers? How could they...actually, that reminds me," the Huntress turned to look Eve in the eye, "They came to me. When I wasn't in the Dream. I thought they could only do that in Yharnam..."

"When you freed Gehrman of his burden, you became the Master of this Dream. Wherever you go the little ones will follow and help you however they can," Eve waved to the left where a group of Messengers were crawling out of a portal in the floorboards. Three gray bodies pushed themselves forward, each one holding a book up to the Huntress.

The Huntress was stunned for but a moment. Then she composed herself, turning her gaze towards the space above the Weapon Bench where numerous weapons hung, their blades still sharp and ready for use. Below them were the different Badges she had collected during her journey through Yharnam. Not a single speck of dust was anywhere near the mementos. Their spotless metal gleamed in the never waning light of the fireplace.

She had never given it much thought, but what her friend said made sense. When one kills a Hunter, finds their discarded remains, or joins a specific group, they take up their mantle by carrying their Badge. Owning it would prove to the Messengers you were worthy of using the garments and weapons of the lost. It was how the Hunters retained the knowledge of the Workshop, even if a Hunter succumbed to their blood lust and turned into a Beast. Eileen had explained this to her numerous times, and her weapons spoke of her participation in such dark work.

"You are correct, Eve," she knelt and plucked the books from the thin hands of the Messengers. They made the same noise they always did, a mixture of moaning, groaning and laughing. She waved goodbye to them as they slipped away into the blackness from whence they came.

A part of being a Hunter was taking on the responsibilities of those that came before. And nothing said that it did not extend to ownership of the Workshop.

The Huntress lifted the books to her face...and immediately frowned upon reading the titles.

" 'How to care for a suffering maiden's heart'," she read aloud, " 'Winning over a woman's parents', and 'Cook her something that will make her heart flutter'."

She was silent for a few moments, before hanging her head and sighing. Her late mentor's taste extended farther than she ever thought possible.

"Oh well," she shrugged while putting up the first two books, "At least the last one can teach me about cooking. I'll be off now, Eve. Sorry I have to leave so soon."

"It is no trouble, Good Hunter," Eve's understanding smile was a wonderful sight to behold for the Huntress, "I shall await and pray for your safe return."

The Huntress nodded and walked towards the door.

* * *

She awoke back in her room, the cookbook held in her right hand. She placed it in one of her pockets and brought her arms up to observe them. The sight of her spotless gloves made her nod as she stood up. Making her way downstairs, the sound of a door closing reached her ears. A look to her left showed the girl closing the door to the privy while the boy stood watch outside. The kids spotted her as she descended the final stair, the boy moving to support the girl as they limped to her.

The Huntress frowned at the sight, kneeling to speak to them at eye level, "I'm sorry about leaving the two of you alone. Did anything happen while I was away?"

Standing up straight, the boy nodded his head and pointed towards the entrance to the house. The Huntress followed his finger, nodded while standing up, then walked to the living room. She beckoned the children to follow her while keeping her pace slow to not get too far ahead. She spoke to them as they walked, looking over her shoulder at them with her eyes hidden beneath her hat, "Do you have names, children? I need to know them in case something were to happen to you." And because calling them "children" is not something the Huntress wanted to do. They were people. They deserved to be called by their names.

The two kids were silent for a minute until the boy attempted to speak. His voice was hoarse and sent him into a coughing fit, forcing the three of them to stop in the middle of the hallway. The girl patted him on the back until he stopped. Straightening his posture, the boy looked up at the Huntress and spoke in a raspy gasp while pointing at himself, "H...Hor...Horace."

He points at the girl to his left, "G...Gl...Gloria."

The Huntress nods and starts walking again, "I see. Do you know your family names? Perhaps you're siblings?"

Horace shakes his head before Gloria squeaks out a reply, "Twins. Don't know...parents."

The Huntress took note of their pauses as they talked. She'd have to look into getting them water alongside food from the Market. And, judging by the orange light being blocked by the curtains as she entered the living room, she didn't have long to do that. She went to the window, slightly moving the curtain out of the way, and spotting the woman standing right at the threshold to her home.

The first thing the Huntress noticed was the weapon in her right hand. It had a long thin blade, the point on the end made to target the weaknesses in heavy armor. A rapier and one its user knew how to use judging by how she gripped it. Her feet spaced apart with, right side faced towards the door, one foot behind the other, further cemented this idea. Going off this alone it was obvious the woman had come here for a fight.

Her attire...not so much.

The Huntress sighed while shaking her head in disappointment. A part of her had hoped that Blitz had been an exception and that Sentinel and Jet had never seen a female warrior before. Mainly because, as strange as this world was, female fighters dressing like Ladies of the Night wasn't something she wanted to accept was the norm.

Yet, here stood this five foot six woman wearing a short cape that could easily be grabbed, black leather boots that only went up to her knees, a wide-brimmed hat that could be pulled down to blind her, short pants that did nothing to protect the vulnerable white skin of her thighs, and black leather so short and stretched tight around her breast that the Huntress wouldn't even call it a shirt that left her midriff bare and open to attack. She didn't want to mention the long, blonde ponytail that moved in the breeze behind her.

The Huntress stepped back from the curtain and turned to her children. She knelt while pulling her bandana down and placing her hat on the ground. Her cut short red hair framed her face as she smiled and said, "Thank you for telling me, Horace. Now, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to go out and...talk to the lady outside. While I'm doing that, do not look out the windows. No matter what you hear, don't open those curtains for any reason. When I come back, I'll take you two to the Market so we can buy dinner. Alright?"

The kids nodded slowly, their stomachs growling at the prospect of food. Gloria moved her hands to her stomach while Horace placed his on her shoulders. They both looked up at the Huntress and spoke in tiny, hoarse voices, "Yes, ma'am."

The Huntress giggled as she stood up. She pulled her bandana back up and placed her hat back on her head, "There's no need for that. You may call me Cynthia, or Ms. Cynthia. Whichever you prefer. I'll be back soon. Stay safe, children."

With that, the Huntress went to the door. She checked that her vials and bullets were fully stocked before walking outside.

* * *

Without missing a step the Huntress closed the door behind her, quickly stepped over the threshold that separated her property from the street, equipped the Rakuyo, and stopped about ten feet from the armed stranger.

She sized the woman up, eyes looking for any possible weakness that could be exploited...save for the obvious ones. She noted how, despite having experience fighting, her foe's skin was completely flawless. There were no scars, no abrasions, no bruises, not even any dirt or dust anywhere. Either she was extremely talented, or she had never been in a true fight. And based on what the Huntress had learned since she got to this world, the latter was the likely answer.

The stranger seemed to scowl at something, then spoke in a young, passionate voice, "Where are the children that were with you? What have you done to them?"

The Huntress' raised eyebrow was hidden beneath her hat, as she replied in a calm tone, "Why do you ask? And for that matter, who are you?"

"Don't change the subject. And as if you couldn't tell," the stranger began circling to the Huntress' left, her rapier pointing towards the black-clothed woman, tip first, "You may have found a way to hide your Mana, but you can't fool me. I saw the blood on your clothes. I know how you only came into town a few days ago, and how this very house was recently purchased by a 'noblewoman'. Aren't my kin meant to be more clever than that?"

The Huntress mirrored her opponent, keeping them in the center of her vision, "You are correct in all your assumptions, save the last two. I am no noble, contrary to whoever has informed you of that, and nor am I kin to you. None who would call themselves my kin would wear clothing that offered no protection whatsoever in combat."

The stranger huffed, fondling her breast through her clothes as she smiled, "My outfit reflects my freedom. Unlike you Vampires, I am not afraid to be open with my passions and desires."

The Huntress tilted her head in confusion, " 'Vampires'? Are those a type of monster? And if so, are you one as well?"

The stranger didn't catch the low rumble her opponent's voice took on, stopping when her back was facing the space between the Huntress' home and an adjacent house. She bent her knees while holding her left hand out to the side, "You're certainly committed to this act. For the sake of indulging in your game, I shall tell you what I am. I am a Dhampir. Half-breed offspring between a Vampire and a human. And while you might...gah!"

The Dhampir halted and held her rapier diagonally, letting the thicker end catch the Huntress' blade as it came down. Demon Silver hit silverite in a loud crash that rang across the empty streets. The waning sunlight elongated the shadows of the two combatants.

The Huntress put pressure on her blade, stepping closer to the Dhampir, eyes wild in anger, "You will not touch my children, monster."

* * *

The Dhampir scowled as she felt her legs skid back under the black-clothed woman's surprising strength. She had been expecting a powerful adversary, but this was beyond her expectations. It was taking up half her strength just to keep herself from flying back. She grit her teeth while gathering her Mana into the palm of her left hand. As she felt the power coalesce, she spoke to her assailant, "Tried to catch me by surprise? You'll have to do better if you plan to bring down Teresa Scarlet!"

The Vampire dashed backward just when Teresa shoved her left hand forward. The Dhampir smiled, dashing after her target with her rapier held to her right. She had to duck under her opponent's retaliatory swing but managed to place her hand on the taller woman's left hip. She let the magic go and jumped back, as a bright flash of purple light erupted from where she had touched.

The light dissipated just as Teresa landed a few feet away. She smiled while placing a hand on her hip, "That should help you see things my way. Doesn't it feel good to-"

She heard a loud bark and instinctively dodged to the right. Something whizzed by her head a moment later. Before she could gather herself her opponent came for her again, this time with a strange object in her left hand.

'What's going on?!' the Dhampir thought as she blocked a stab aimed for her gut and back stepped to avoid the subsequent upwards slash. 'She should be slowing down. The spell should've sent my Spirit Energy directly into her! How is she still this strong!?"

She shook her head and pressed the offensive, stabbing away at her opponent. Though her attacks missed she managed to force the black-clothed woman back a bit, making enough distance for a moment's rest...that is until the Vampire held the small device in her left hand towards her. The Dhampir scowled and started dashing repeatedly as her foe sent projectile after projectile her way.

She knew the spell had to have worked. It had on every other monster she had faced. This Vampire was likely hiding the full effects of the spell to confuse her. Underneath that bandana and hat were wide pleading eyes, and an open ready mouth. She just needed a few hits from her rapier and she'd fall to her knees.

Teresa grinned confidently, waiting for a lapse in her opponent's assault. When it came she skidded to a halt, holding her rapier horizontally as she took up a new stance. She pushed her Mana into the soles of her feet and her blade, as she shouted to the Vampire, "Considering you attacked me without warning, allow me to return the favor!"

She kicked off the ground, rocketing towards her opponent with incredible speed. The Vampire dashed to the right at the last second. Teresa put Mana into her toes and used them to stop her momentum just before she passed her target. She turned to face her foe and kicked off again, stabbing forward with her blade.

The Vampire held up her weapon while leaning to the left, their blades clashing as Teresa passed by. The Dhampir landed a few feet away and repeated the action. She flew at the back of her opponent, ignoring the sound of something snapping as she slashed her opponent's right side. Feelings of triumph coursing through her veins, she stopped and shot out one last time. Her blade found its mark, piercing through the Vampire's left shoulder.

Teresa grinned victoriously already feeding her Energy through the rapier and into the Vampire's body. She could feel it taking root inside...wait...

'What is this terrible feeling? My Mana it's...it's being taken from me. Why? What's happening to-'

Teresa realized what was happening just as a painful shock shot up her right arm. She looked over and saw a small dagger stabbing through her flesh.

She looked up and finally got a look at her enemy's eyes.

And for the first time in her life she felt something that no one, not even other Mamono had ever made her feel in her life.

True, absolute, all-consuming dread.

Teresa's scream was cut off as the monster's other blade stabbed through her stomach.

* * *

On a rooftop overlooking the fierce battle, Akuri stood paralyzed.

When word had reached her Mistress that her daughter was making her way to Pran, the Kunoichi had been dispatched immediately. Her task was to simply watch over the half-breed and report back if she makes any headway in discovering her mother's location.

Things had gone smoothly so far. With the newcomer taking up the Dhampir's attention, she had gained no ground in tracking down her parent. Akuri didn't truly care if the newcomer turned out to be a Vampire or not. If she was, then she could distract the Dhampir long enough for her to inform her Mistress. If she wasn't, she knew nothing of the existence of her Mistress, so Teresa would simply waste time.

She was not expecting so see the newcomer not only match but defeat the Dhampir in single combat.

That had shocked her.

Watching the newcomer stab Teresa through the gut with no hesitation terrified her. She felt her entire body begin to shake as the newcomer...the monster ripped both its blades from the Dhampir's body. The Mamono started to moan in pain, rolling on the ground while holding her punctured stomach. The monster stepped forward, grabbed the downed Dhampir by her ponytail, then started dragging her towards their house.

The Kunoichi knew she should be furious. That she should be yelling in rage and planning her revenge against the cruel monster that defeated her Mistress' daughter.

But the truth was that she was horrified beyond belief.

She had fought many humans since she came to this continent. Many Heroes, male and female, had fallen to her skills. No two fought her the same way, but they all had one thing in common; they hesitated.

When it came time to deal the finishing blow or they had an opportunity to cripple her for life, they never took it. They always let her go or tried to "redeem" her. They were all too kind to end her life.

But not this one.

When this one was given the chance to end the battle, they took it.

No hesitation. No second-guessing. No redemption.

Only death.

Akuri felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She went prone just as the newcomer looked directly at her hiding spot. She swore they could see right through the shadows, their eyes boring a hole straight through her. Her hands unconsciously went to her weapons while her mind began running her escape routes through her head.

After what felt like hours, the newcomer finally turned around and went inside the house.

Akuri stayed prone for ten minutes before she felt comfortable enough to leave.


	14. Asking A Few Questions

The water startled Scarlet awake as it splashed across her face. She sputtered, breathing rapid as her head darted back and forth. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness around her, letting her see the details of the room she was in. Her hat was gone, there was a large bed to her left, what looked to be a closet to her right, a carpet beneath her and...was that blood?!

She felt her blood run cold as the familiar scent of iron hit her nose. She tried to stand, but her arms and legs refused to move. A glance below revealed a taut, brown rope tied around her legs. It reached all the way around the legs of the chair she was sitting in. She could feel the same material on her wrist behind her. An ache from her stomach made her groan. She looked down and saw clean white cloth wrapped around her midsection, no hint of blood on them. She kept her eyes on her surroundings while trying to squirm free of her bindings. Her mind raced as it tried to catch up with what her body was experiencing. She slowly began to piece together the events that had transpired up to this point.

She had come to Pran, got information about a Vampire living on the edge of town, found her walking into her home with two children, confronted her...and then...

"Are you awake? Good."

Scarlet's body stiffened at the voice. Its tone was sharp, feminine, and frigid, with an edge to it that sent a shiver up her spine. She focused her gaze in front of her, the owner of the voice leaning on a chair identical to hers. The stranger (it was clear they weren't a Vampire by this point) wore a long, gray coat that ended at their waist. A long cape that split down the middle fell down to their ankles. What looked like two long, black wings followed every movement they made. The feathers fluttered in the air as they bent over and placed a bucket on the ground.

But the thing that stood out the most about the stranger's attire was the long bone white mask on their face. She couldn't place the smooth material it was made of, which only made it more menacing. As the stranger approached her Scarlet couldn't help but try and scoot her chair back. Remembering how she had felt at the end of the battle, coupled with the knowledge that it had all been done by the figure coming towards her, was too much to bear.

She unconsciously whimpered as the stranger stopped in front of her chair, the beak of the mask pointing down at her with malevolent intent. What felt like hours passed by with neither of them saying a single word. Scarlet kept quiet out of fear. She wasn't sure about her captor.

She nearly jumped when the stranger knelt to her level, the revealing pitch black holes for eyes that even the Dhampir's enhanced vision couldn't see into. The stranger spoke in that same, clipped voice, "Now then, I'm going to ask you a few questions. You are going to answer them truthfully and to the best of your ability. If you do so, no harm will come to you. If you do not..."

A fist, faster than Scarlet could see, smacked her in the center of her face. She grit her teeth, feeling the chair underneath her tip backward before the stranger pulled it back. She heard the chair's legs hit the floor at the same time a sharp pain rocketed up her thigh. Her eyes shot towards her right leg, widening at the lengthwise cut that was leaking crimson onto the rug below.

The stranger grabbed her chin with two fingers, moved her face to be level with hers, and produced a knife that dripped the same red ichor as her thigh, "I trust you understand me?"

Scarlet was fully awake now. Multiple emotions shot rapidly through her brain at once. Hammering heart, dry throat, chaffing arms and legs, and a captor who wasn't afraid to cause her severe bodily harm? It was all too much for her to bare. So, she did the one thing that made sense to her terrified mind at the moment.

She fainted.

* * *

"...Damn. I overdid it."

The Huntress removed the wooden mask, the smell of incense leaving her nostrils while she paced around the unconscious Mamono. While her objective was to scare the monster, she did not mean to make her pass out. Merely scare her to the point where she would give truthful answers to her questions. The threat of harm does wonders to loosen lips. Showing that you are willing and able to inflict that harm even more so.

But this was never her intention. Not only did it slow her interrogation, but it could mean that the monster, Scarlet she believed was her name, was too frightened to even form a cohesive thought. If that was the case, then the Huntress would never get any answers out of her.

The Huntress sighed as she stood up and moved to the chair across from the monster. She placed the mask back on, sat down facing the creature, crossed her arms, then waited. Her gloved fingers tapped against the soft feathers of her "wings". She closed her eyes, as the incense in the beak of the mask entered her nose. Eileen's visage appeared in front of her eyes, that stoic demeanor she always wore bringing a smile to the Huntress' face. The memory of the Crow advising the Huntress on what it truly meant to be a Hunter was a fond one. Wistful nostalgia came over her as time passed by.

The pained groan shook the Huntress from her reminiscing. She waited until the glaze around the waking Mamono's eyes cleared before she spoke, "Let that be proof that none of my threats are idle ones. Now, are you going to answer my questions?"

Scarlet furiously nodded her head yes. The Huntress returned it, leaning back in her chair as she spoke, "The war between the humans and the Mamono. What's the Mamono's side of it?" At the clear confusion on the monster's face, the Huntress continued, "In war, both sides always go in with a clear reason for why they fight. I learned something of why the humans fight, but not your kind. Why are you fighting this war? What do you gain from it? Why go out of your way to seduce and transform humans?"

The monster tilted her head to the side, confused frown still on her face. The Huntress was about to move on until Scarlet shook her head and said, "Love."

It was the Huntress' turn to tilt her head in confusion, "Excuse me?"

"We...well, the Mamono do it for love," Scarlet spoke with utter conviction, "All they want is to be loved and love in kind. They want to better both their and humans lives. They don't want to fight. They want to love."

The Huntress was silent for what felt like a long time. Scarlet watched her captor, until she felt a drop of sweat fall into her eye.

She blinked once.

And then the Huntress was in front of her with a blade to her neck.

The Mamono yelped at how quickly the Huntress had closed the distance. She unconsciously angled her neck away from the blade, eyes widely shifting between it and its wielder.

"I thought I made it clear," the Huntress delivered each word slowly, emphasizing them by moving her blade closer, "that you are not to lie to me."

Scarlet swallowed loudly, speaking with a shaky but determined voice, "It-it's no lie! It's the truth! Why would I lie about something like that?!"

The Huntress' eyes narrowed behind the dark holes of her mask. She searched her captive's face for any signs that she was lying. A twitch in her eyelids, breathing through her teeth, or her eyes constantly moving away from the Huntress covered face.

None appeared.

The Huntress stepped back from the Mamono. She took in a deep breath, placed a hand on her forehead, then let out a long, drawn out sigh. She made her way back to the chair while massaging her temples with one hand. She kept it up as she sat down, exasperation in her voice as she said, "Care to elaborate?"

Certain that she wasn't about to lose her head, Scarlet answered, "Well, like I said, all they want is to spread love through the world. They want to love the humans, make their lives better and bring them happiness. Through that the humans give them love, make their lives better, and bring them happiness. All them want to is give them the love they deserve."

"And that includes rape," the Huntress cut right to the heart of the matter, "So, for your kind, completely subverting a human's free will is love? Forcing a man to have intercourse with you, even if he doesn't consent, then using magic to make him enjoy it is love? Filling a female with so much lust that she will accept any kind of relief, even if it transforms her against her will, is love? Conquering an entire city and turning its populace into raging, sex crazed lunatics, is the Mamono consider love? Because if so..."

The Huntress leans forward in her chair, her hands gripping the arms with barely concealed rage, "Then you monsters are sicker than I ever imagined."

To her shock, her captive furiously shook her head at the assertions. She looked...hurt when she turned to face the Huntress again, "No! That's not true! Well...I mean, not for all of us."

The Huntress raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her seat while motioning for the monster to continue. Scarlet let out a tired sigh, "Let me explain. Yes, there are Mamono who do behave like that. But there are also those who want to fall in love with a human naturally. No magic, no potions, no rape. Just plain romance. I should know, I'm one of them. I'd love nothing more than to find a nice young man, go out to dinner, talk about nice things, maybe buy each other gifts and-"

The Huntress coughs into her hand to get the Mamono's attention. Scarlet shakes her head free of her fantasies, "Right. Sorry. My point is that there are Mamono out there that don't try and force people into relationships. They don't want to be apart of the war. They just want to live their lives with the ones they love, and raise families together. Everyone wants a family that they can love and care for, don't they?"

The Huntress' reply is cut off by a soft knock on the door to her room. Her glare tells Scarlet to be silent as she stands up and walks to the door. She lifts the mask off and hides it behind her back before opening it.

Gloria stood there in her still tattered and dirty white jerkin, her large brown eyes staring up at the Huntress. Dealing with the Mamono forced her to postpone finding a stream to bathe them in, else she wouldn't have made it to the Market before everyone went home. Luckily she managed to catch a produce seller before they went home and bought a basket filled with apples. It wasn't much, but it was healthy and would tide the children over until the next day.

The Huntress bent low so her eyes were level with the young girl, a gentle smile on her face, "Is something wrong, Gloria?"

"S...Scared," the young girl hands balled up the hem of her jerkin, whole body trembling, "Scared to sleep...alone."

The Huntress reached out and rubbed the child's head, "Aaaww. Well, I'm busy with our guest at the moment. Why don't you go to your brother's room for now? You can lay in his bed until I'm done, then I'll come get you and bring you to my room. Does that sound ok?"

Gloria slowly nodded in. The Huntress removed her hand, "Do you know where his room is?"

Another nod, then the girl said in her squeaky, tired voice, "Uh huh. Goodnight, Ms. Cynthia."

"Goodnight, Gloria," the Huntress watched the young girl walk to her brother's room. She didn't close the door until Gloria had closed the door to the guest room.

Then she put her mask back on, turned around, and walked back to her chair. She ignored the smug look on Scarlet's face, sat down and said, "Point taken. However, would I be correct in assuming that you are not the majority?" If they were, her first experience with the Mamono wouldn't have been so hostile.

"Well, no," Scarlet hangs her head in shame, then brings it back up and quickly says, "But that doesn't mean they all do it on purpose! Some are just following their instincts. They don't know any better. And then there are the extremist making things worse for all of us."

"Extremist?" the Huntress felt a headache come on at the mention of that word. She could things were about to get more complicated.

"They're exactly what they sound like," Scarlet frowns, "They go out of their way to find humans, rape them, and then transform them into more monsters. You heard of what happened to Lescatie, right?"

"That was them," the Huntress said with a nod, "I see what you mean, but aren't they simply 'spreading their love', like you do?"

"Do NOT compare me to them!" the force of the Mamono's stomp was lessened by her bonds, but it got her point across, "I understand what love is! I know it's more than grabbing a man and riding his brains out! It's a warm, kind, gentle, fiery feeling that goes far, far beyond even Mamono comprehension! Sex might come from love, but it does not signify it!"

Scarlet took a moment to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling with each intake and exhale. Behind her mask the Huntress' eyes had shifted slightly in surprise. She had not expected such a passionate speech from the Mamono. Especially considering her current situation.

The Huntress waited until the Mamono calmed down. Then she held up a hand and said, "That's enough about the Mamono and the War. Let's move on my second question, which is a bit more pressing. Why did you attack me?"

The Mamono shrugged, "I thought you were a Vampire."

"And what exactly is that? I can tell it's a monster like you, but I would like details."

Scarlet tilted her head in confusion, "Details? Shouldn't you-"

Scarlet caught herself as the Huntress began reaching for her blade. The Mamono shook her head, "Sorry! Sorry! Um, well, a Vampire is a Mamono. They only come out at night because they're weak during the day, are some of the oldest Mamono, need to drink blood to live, consider themselves nobility, look down on humans, and are super arrogant and prideful. Some tend to disguise themselves as human nobles to have better access to a food supply."

It was the Huntress' turn to be confused, though the mask kept it hidden, "You speak of Vilebloods?"

"What's a Vileblood?"

"A race of blood obsessed creatures, known for thinking themselves nobility, and famed for drinking others blood for sustenance," a sense of dread made its way into the Huntress' mind. If this monster was anything like the Vileblood from her world, then she would need to deal with it. Quickly.

The confusion on Scarlet's face returned, "You just described a Vampire. I thought you didn't know what they were?"

"I don't," the Huntress replied while crossing her arms, "And what I described was a Vileblood."

"No, a Vampire."

"No, a Vileblood."

"Vampire."

"Vileblood."

"Forget it," the Mamono shook her head, "Anyway, I'm sorry I attacked you. I hunt Vampires, and came to this town because I heard rumors one was nearby. I caught wind of a noblewoman purchasing this manor at the edge of town, then I saw you with blood covering your clothes and...well, you can understand where my mind went."

The Huntress nodded, then stopped when she analyzed what the Mamono had said, "Hold a moment. 'Hunting' a Vampire? But, aren't you a monster? Why would you hunt your own kind?"

Scarlet smiled, showing off her elongated canines, "Don't you remember what I said? I'm a Dhampir. Half Vampire, Half human. Technically, I'm an accident. Vampires don't like humans, especially human men. They go on and on about how inferior humans are, and most only ever sleep with or marry men that have been transformed."

Her smile curled upwards as she leaned forward, "But drinking the blood of men increases their desires. Sometimes those desires overflow and they bed the first man they lay on eyes, usually the one they enjoy feeding on. And, through that intense night of passion, there's a chance a half breed will be born. Monsters with all the upsides of being a Vampire, none of the downsides, and a better understanding of both the Mamono and human perspectives of this whole conflict."

"I see," the Huntress absorbed this information with gusto. However, it did give her more questions than answers. Why is it that the majority of Mamono births are other Mamono, but there are rare cases such as Scarlet? Is it a defect? A possible mutation? Or something more?

She'd have to find those answers later.

"That still doesn't answer my question though. Why hunt your own kin?"

"To give them a better life. Vampires loathe human men...on the surface. In truth, they're just like any other Mamono. They want to be loved and have a husband. But their pride gets in the way, and makes them transform their lovers into monsters. Even if they love the man as a human, they won't tell him. They'll go on and on about how they don't have feelings for him when they really do. That's not how a relationship should be."

Scarlet shakes her head, then lifts it up with a determined look, "So, I've taken it upon myself to teach them the error of their ways. I'll show them that hiding their feelings from their true love is a mistake. To be true to themselves and-"

"Understood," the Huntress interrupted. Scarlet blinked twice, clamming up as the wind went out of her sails. She grumbled in frustration and began to pout. The Huntress rolled her eyes behind the mask.

"Last question," the Huntress stood up and walked over to her bed. The Dhampir's eyes followed her as knelt and reached underneath the large mattress. When she stood up, Scarlet's eyes widened at the sight of her rapier in the Huntress' hand. The taller woman strode back to her seat while running her gloved hand along the rapier's gleaming blade, "Could you inform me of the material this weapon is made from? It it not one I am familiar with."

Scarlet didn't answer. The Huntress shot a glare her way, eying the already healing cut on her thigh and the likely still tender hole in her gut. Then the Dhampir sighed in defeat while shaking her head, "Demon Realm Silver. It cuts through armor without injuring my opponents, and fills them with my Spirit Energy when I hit them. It's how I get Vampires to surrender."

The Huntress hummed while turning the blade over in her palms. Ideas began running through her head as she beheld the weapon, until Scarlet's next question broke her out of her reverie, "So, if that was the last question, can I go?"

The Huntress froze in place.

Her head slowly moved to regard her captive, as the one thing she hadn't been considering made itself known.

What would she do with the Dhampir? Should she let her go? After all, she had answered all her questions. And the attack was a misunderstanding. She didn't mean any harm by-

'Do you truly believe that?'

The Huntress felt her skin begin to crawl.

'Half breed or no, she's still a monster, isn't she?'

Darkness consumed the room until the only she and the Dhampir remained.

'She could be lying. Who wouldn't to save their own skin?'

The scent of the incense disappeared from her nostrils.

'She never said she couldn't be controlled by her desires. What if she snaps one day? You'd be at fault for letting her live. Just like if you let those children live.'

The Huntress' put down the rapier.

'You know what you must do.'

She stepped closer to the Dhampir until her shadow fell over it.

'You know what you do is right.'

She unsheathed her Blades of Mercy, snapping the single blade into twin daggers.

'You know what you do is for the good of all.'

She crossed her arms, blades gleaming in the sunlight as she looked down at the monster in front of her.

_'...You are a skilled hunter.'_

She froze at the sound of the familiar voice. Briefly, she was taken back to that place. Where the Beast walked with blankets over their heads, their eyes either bright red or completely empty. The smell of gunpowder getting stronger as she got closer to the tower in the distance.

_'Adept. Merciless. Half-cut with blood. As the best hunters are.'_

Her body trembled as the voice cut into her like a knife. Her grip on her blades waned.

_'Which is why I must stop you!'_

The sound of a gunshot snapped her back to reality. The darkness retreated, uncovering the room right before the Huntress' eyes. Her head darted to and fro, before settling on the Mamono in front of her. Scarlet was shaking, her eyes closed, and tears streaming down her face. In between sobs she let out pleas for mercy, apologies for her transgressions, and cries to be sent home.

The Huntress' arms felt heavy. She lowered them to her sides, Blades of Mercy held limply within. One final sentence came to her. The last words of a man who only wanted to defend the peaceful life he had found. A Hunter who had grown tired of the Hunt, and wanted nothing more than to defend the people he once helped put down.

A man she had killed for standing in her way.

_'It's you...You're the beast...Can't you see what you're doing? It's madness...'_

The Huntress stood there for an hour.

She was doing it again.

She was killing everyone she came across.

She was letting the Blood control her.

She was repeating everything she had done in Yharnam.

She had not changed.

Nothing had changed.

...No.

No. She wouldn't let it be that way.

Things would change. She would _make_ them change.

Then she walked around to her captive's back, and cut the rope binding her hands and feet with one swift cut. As Scarlet rubbed her wrist and ankles, the Huntress pointed towards the door, "Come with me...please."

Trembling, Scarlet stood up from the chair, stumbling slightly as feeling returned to her legs. The Huntress turned and lead her out the door. The walk was quiet and entirely too short to the both of them. When the reached the entrance the Huntress said to the terrified Mamono, "Thank you for your assistance. You may leave."

Her voice was stilted and unsure, but Scarlet didn't mind it. She simply nodded, waited for the Huntress to open the door, and walked out with a smile on her face. The Huntress knew it was forced but didn't say anything. She just watched as the Dhampir walked out the door and into the dark streets of Pran.

She closed the door and sighed in frustration.

'Why did you do that?'

"Because this isn't Yharnam," she said to the empty air around her, "And I plan to keep it that way."

* * *

"Umm, how much did you say was in here?" Maggie whispered while weighing the heavy bag of coins in her hand. The light from the candle on the table made her shadow dance on the wall behind her.

Nick smiled at his sister, arms crossed and head held high as he answered, "Six. Hundred. Enough to pay rent and keep us fed for months! It'll be smooth sailing for a while now, Mags!"

Maggie shushed her brother, looking behind her at the rickety door to Marcus' room. She sighed in relief when it remained closed, before turning back to Nick with her mouth agape, "But..how?"

"A noble," Nick didn't bother hiding the pride he felt, "She asked me to guide her around town. Offered me three hundred to do it, then gave me a bonus for finishing the job. That's right, I earned all this from simply walking royalty down a few alleyways! Am I good or what?"

"Alright, but, what about the Vipers?" Maggie's voice was filled with worry, "They've been more active ever since six of their members were killed in the slums today. And the guards have started upping their patrols."

"Tell me about it," Nick groaned in frustration, "I was late getting back because those fuckers stopped me on three separate occasions. They usually just sit on their asses all day. Why are the so jumpy tonight?"

Maggie took the bag and began counting the coins, "I'm not sure. But there have rumors that they're asking around about a large person wearing black clothes who walked around town covered in blood yesterday. I don't know if it's true, but if it is then..." She trialed off, not wanting to consider the idea that came to the back of her mind.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Nick sat down in the chair across from his sister, laying his head on the table with a smile, "Even if they do find her, they're not gonna be able to do anything to her."

"Her?" Maggie looked at her brother in confusion, who simply smiled at her with a cheeky grin. Then the answer dawned on her.

And she felt her blood run cold.

"You...you don't mean that..."

"Heck yeah!" Nick pushed himself to his feet, "The one who killed those Vipers and has the guards scrambling, is the same woman who gave me the four hundred gold! And I'm in her good graces now. Do you know what this means, Mags?! We've got a fucking _noble_ in our corner. If we play our cards right, we can get rid of Montgomery and get ourselves out the slums! This is our chance!"

"No!" Maggie's surprising shout made Nick step back. Confusion filled his face, while his sister put both hands on her mouth. Her head swiveled to Marcus' door, watching it for what felt like half an hour. Then she turned back to Nick, sweat dripping down her face, "Nick, you remember when I came home and told you I had sold three of my statues?"

"Yeah," Nick said slowly as his eyes narrowed, "You said some really tall, dark, and scary person had bought them from you for thirty gold. Why are you bringing that up?"

"Because, I think that person was the noble you're talking about," Maggie started to wring her hands together, "We shouldn't get involved with her, Nick. She's...dangerous."

"Not get in...do you not _see_ the gold on the table?!" Nick pointed towards the aforementioned bag filled with money, "That's enough to pay the rent and then some! It might be enough to buy an actual house! Not to mention that she killed SIX Vipers, _on her own_! Why should we avoid her?! She's our ticket out of here!"

She looked away from her brother, biting her bottom lip to stop it from shaking, "One thing I didn't tell you, Nick, was what I saw that day when I looked into her eyes. The eyes reveal many things about people when you stare directly into them. You'll sometimes see things that you don't want to see. Do you want to know what I saw in her eyes?"

"What?"

"The eyes of someone with no regard for their own life. And if they don't care for their life, why would they care for ours?"


	15. Dealing With The Captain

Harlod glanced up from his work, his hammer held mere inches from his anvil. His bushy black eyebrows raised on his soot-covered face, staring at the approaching customer. Her black clothing and peculiar hat jogged his memory as to who she was. He nodded to her before focusing his efforts back to the task at hand. The ring of his hammer on metal sent sparks flying as he spoke aloud, "Welcome back. I see Nick isn't with you this time. That mean you're here to buy something?"

"Yes and no," the woman, Cynthia he believed, said with a bit of a cough, "I was hoping to ask you to appraise something for me. I am willing to pay if I have to. I...hold a moment please."

Harlod took the tongs at his side in hand, grabbed the hot nail on his anvil, gave it a short observation, then placed it in the barrel on his right. Steam rose with a hiss as the hot metal met water. He glanced sidelong at the tall customer, following her as she crouched to the ground. He felt his eyebrows shift higher as two children came into his sight. A boy and a girl, they wore ragged clothes riddled with holes, but their skin was surprisingly clean.

His gaze turned to Cynthia as she spoke to them, "Horace, Gloria, I need to speak with this man alone for a bit. Can the two of you stay outside while I do? Don't go too far and watch out for each other. Ok?"

The children nodded their heads before walking outside. Cynthia didn't take her eyes off them the entire time, looking over her shoulder as she walked up to Harlod. It was only when they disappeared around the corner did she turn to the blacksmith.

Harlod chuckled, "Well now. Don't think I remember seein' you with any young uns' last time."

"That is because I took them in yesterday," she shrugs, "They have not been with me for long."

"Ah," the blacksmith nodded in understanding, taking the metal out of the barrel. He placed the tongs to the side while sliding the cool metal turned nail into a gloved hand. He straightened his posture, rubbed the sweat from his forehead with the back of his gloves, and moved to the back of his forge, "That makes sense. Truth be told, was a bit worried Nick was hiding something from me."

He laughed, tis black hair underneath a white cloth wrapped around his head shaking with his body. Cynthia smiled at the man's happiness, though she wasn't entirely sure what he meant. He walked to the forge, and carefully moved the tongs inside. He spoke as he rotated the nail over the warm fires, "So, what do you need from ol' Harlod? Looking to get the young lad a training sword? Good idea, but I'd suggest starting him with something made of wood instead of steel."

"I appreciate the offer, but no," Cynthia shakes her head while reaching for her right hip, "I was actually hoping you could take a look at something for me."

Harlod took his tongs out of the forge and turned to watch Cynthia. His head tilted to the side as she brought up a rapier he didn't remember seeing when she stepped into his forge. He briefly questioned where she kept it while walking forward to look at the thin blade. He gently placed the heated metal back on his anvil, and leaned over the offered weapon, grunting as his eyes roamed the sword. The material it was made of shined brightly even in the dim light of his forge. It had a rounded, dome-shaped guard with a winding handle curving around a straight pommel. Everything about it was immaculate and unquestionably made for one of high stature.

However, one thing bothered Harlod.

The universal signs of a weapon being used in battle were the various marks that accumulated along its blade. Chipped off pieces of metal from a blocked strike here, a rusted edge from spilling blood there, a nick from scraping a wall there. No matter the weapon, it would always have some damage to tell you its story.

Yet, there were no nicks on this one

"Have you seen anything like this before?" Cynthia watched the blacksmith as he placed a hand on his chin in contemplation.

"Can't say I have," he admits, standing straight and moving his eyes to his customer, "Where did you get this?"

"A...ruffian broke into my home. I drove them off, but they left their weapon behind," Cynthia added the second part after she saw Harlod's eyes narrow. She didn't wish to elaborate. It could draw unwanted attention.

"Hmm," Harlod took his hand off his chin and held it out, "May I get a closer look?"

Cynthia blinked then shook her head, "I'm afraid not. Sorry, I...think it might be enchanted. And I wouldn't want something to happen to you." She was telling the truth, just not giving a full explanation. She's unsure how Harlod would react to learning she defeated a Dhampir and stole its weapon while suffering no adverse effects. Better to keep him in the dark.

Harlod stared her down, trying to spot anything that could betray her true reasons. He shrugged when he found none, "Understandable. Besides, it's not like I can say you're wrong. I'm no mage. Can tell you one thing though. There's not a single scratch on the blade. Either this thing has never seen a real fight or whoever made it knew what they were doing."

Cynthia nodded in understanding, thinking back to her weapons and the periodic maintenance she performed in the Dream. Even the silverite edges of the Rakuyo and Burial Blade required regular investments of Blood Echoes to keep ready for use. If this weapon had truly seen battle yet carried no obvious damage, while being able to bypass armor, then it is indeed made of impressive material.

Then again, it is a Mamono weapon. The silver the rapier is made from is likely meant to increase a foe's lustful urges so they can be transformed.

But perhaps there is a way to work around that.

"Thank you, Harlod," Cynthia clipped the weapon to her hip again, "How much should I pay for this?"

Harlod waved a hand dismissively, "Consider this one on the house. Besides, you just had me look at the thing. I'm not that snake Montgomery."

Cynthia raised an eyebrow at the mention of the Merchant and made a mental note to find some time to speak with him at length. She gave the blacksmith a short bow, "Thank you for your generosity. Do you know of anyone else I can go to for assistance in this matter?"

He stepped back to his forge. He put his hands on the bellows, muscular arms grabbing the handles with a tight grip. His white apron crinkled alongside his long black trousers as he pumped air into his forge, stoking the fire to a roaring inferno. He spoke at length to Cynthia, "If you're looking to keep it, find a girl named Tanis. Hers is the second building down the street on your right. She'll tell ya if the blade's cursed or something. If you're looking to just sell it, Maeve is right across the street from her. She'll buy it off you cursed or not, and give you a fair price for it."

Cynthia thanked the blacksmith again. She was preparing to leave when she heard two tiny sets of footsteps headed her way. She turned and knelt as Horace and Gloria ran past the shop's threshold and into her arms. She hugged them tightly against her, looking up as four people stepped into the forge.

The green eagle painted on their breastplates marked them as the City Guard. Cynthia had seen two of them guarding the gate when she first arrived at Pran. These guards looked identical, with the same iron breastplates, flat pauldrons, and matching gauntlets.

Three of the guards tightened their grips on the spears they wielded as the Huntress stood up from her crouch, whispering to the children to remain calm while she handled this. Harlod stepped away from his forge, shouting incredulously, "What in the name of the Gods is going on ?! What is the Guard doing here?!"

The guard in the center stepped forward until he was ten feet away from the Huntress. One foot stomped the ground as he brought a scroll up to his face. His eyes quickly scanned the parchment, stopping to take a glance at the Huntress a few times, before he nodded and shoved the scroll into his pocket. He spoke with as much authority as he could muster, which was diminished when his voice cracked multiple times, "Citizen. We ask that you come with us to the Guardhouse. The Captain would like to ask you some questions on the recent murders that have occurred in the city."

Harlod's eyes went wide as they darted between Cynthia and the guards at his door, clearly shocked at the turn of events. In contrast, the Huntress showed no outward distress whatsoever. Her voice was as unnaturally slow and composed as she asked, "And why, exactly, do you believe I had anything to do with those events?"

"Witnesses say someone of your size, stature, and attire was seen at each incident," the guard said, hiding the surprise he felt at the Huntress' demeanor, "As such, you are currently the prime suspect."

The Huntress was silent as she contemplated her next move. She didn't have time for this. She had managed to bathe the children, but she still needed to purchase food for dinner and take them to a tailor for proper attire. Not to mention that she couldn't simply leave them home alone when there was no telling how long they would keep her. Who would look after them? She would have to defeat the guards here and move on. It should be a simple matter. Their headgear was little more than leather wrappings. A good punch to the temple would be enough to-

This isn't Yharnam.

She froze at her own words echoing in her mind. She remained that way for but a moment. Then she turned around looked Harlod in the eyes.

With a pleading smile hidden by her bandana, she said to the blacksmith, "How much would it take for you to watch over my children?"

* * *

When the Huntress reached the Guardhouse she had expected to be locked in chains, shoved into a dark cell in the back, and forced to wait for the Captain to call for her.

Which is why she was surprised when she was brought to a large, open room with a single table set up. This only increased after she was seated at the table, and the two guards who escorted her walked out of the room.

She examined the area around her, looking for anything that might give her a clue to what was happening. A cast iron door on the opposite side of the room stood closed with a single door handle its only feature. To her left was a single training dummy, the flour sack that formed its body covered in small cuts. To her right was a single window with a white potted flower set on its sill, swaying in the gentle breeze. Next to it was a shelf with books lining the top while the bottom was taken up by...a large black and orange cat.

Confusion and curiosity came over the Huntress as she stared at the creature curled up with its eyes closed. Its body rose and fell gently with every breath while its tail laid hanging off the edge. The Huntress stared at the feline for about five minutes, questions of how it still slept despite the noise when she came into the room circling through her mind.

The Huntress whipped her head away from the feline as a door opened on the opposite end of the room. An old man with a green cloak stepped around a corner to the left of the cast iron door, hands held at his side. His face was covered in dust, small brown flecks of it held within a blond beard that connected to the same color shock of hair. Bags sagged under his brown eyes above a nose that tilted to the right. She saw no obvious weapons on his person but didn't let her guard down.

He snorted at the sight of her and pulled out a chair across from the Huntress at the table. His black jerkin ruffled as he sat down. A whistle left his lips followed by a blur of orange fur zipping past the Huntress onto the table. The cat from the shelf sat at the man's right side, sharp green eyes glaring at her with what she swore was malice.

The Huntress turned her attention to the man in front of her, "Am I right to assume you are the Guard Captain?"

"Aye," his reply was curt, with a gravelly voice.

"I see. Might I ask your name?"

"Felix," he rested his head on his left hand while using his right to pet his cat.

The Huntress resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It seems he was going to make this difficult, "Might I ask the reason I have been brought here?"

"You can cut the formality. Though I certainly appreciate it," his chortle made the Huntress frown behind her bandana. He took his head off his hand, his tired eyes staring at her above flat lips, "I'll cut to the chase. You're here because you've been terrorizing the city and killed at least six people in the slums."

The Huntress looked the man up and down weighing her response to his accusations, before shrugging with indifference, "If you are sure of this, then why wasn't I led through that door behind you?"

"Oh, we'll go down there if you don't tell me what I want to know," Felix jerked his head towards the door behind him, "But if you do, I might decide to be lenient. And the first things I need from you are confessions."

"Rather transparent."

"Either you tell me what I want to know, or I throw you into a cell for a few days and then ya tell me," he stopped petting his cat to shrug, "A few days down there tend to loosen lips. So, what's it gonna be?"

Felix's cat meowed then hopped into his lap, disappearing beneath the rim of the table. The Huntress glared at the man from beneath her hat. Though his thinly veiled threat was weak considering what she could accomplish, it would ultimately cost her time. Time which she could be spending taking care of Horace and Gloria.

She nodded to Felix, "Very well. What do you wish to know?"

"Nothing. Your actions aren't exactly low profile," Felix's fingers tapped a slow rhythm on the table, "As I said, all I need out you is a confirmation that you did all this."

The Huntress tilts her head in confusion, "And what evidence do you have that it was me?"

"Nothing concrete, but...," Felix lifts his hand and starts counting off on his fingers, "A few days back, my men report the new arrivals in the city. The same day we get word from the citizens that someone was threatening a young woman in the Market, but we find no one. Two days later, my men are patrolling the slums and discover a dead-end alley with dismembered bodies all over the ground and a woman missing her hands. And just before that, we received a report of someone walking through the Market covered head to toe in blood with two children on their shoulders."

He closed his hand into a fist, a smug smile on his face, "Eyewitness accounts in all incidents described a tall, black-clothed person, with a strange hat and mask. And you not only match the accounts, but you were among the new arrivals my men report. It isn't exactly hard to figure things out from there. Do you deny any of this?"

"No," she caught the man's eyes widening as she confessed, "However, I would like to clarify a few things. Firstly, I have threatened no one. My interaction with the young lady was likely a misunderstanding. Second, I dispatched those people in self-defense. They were members of a gang calling themselves 'The Vipers' and had cornered me. They threatened my life and I acted accordingly."

Felix was silent for a few seconds. Then he chuckled while shaking his head, "Well that saves me time. Not surprised it was the Vipers. They seemed to have gotten bolder ever since Lescaite fell." His cat meowed to get his attention, so he lifted her back onto the table and started to scratch her back.

The Huntress spoke as the feline began to purr with delight, "Does this mean I am going to see that dark cell you mentioned?"

"Normally yes," Felix leaned back in his chair, "but I have another idea if you're interested."

The Huntress' raised an eyebrow beneath her hat, "If I say I am?"

"Pran's understaffed," he said plainly, "Since the monsters took Lescaite, I've been forced to up the number of guards watching for monsters near the town's borders. If they spot anything, I send a report to the Order."

"Do they tend to reply?" she asked honestly.

"They do. Most of the time it's just a nice way of saying 'Fuck off and deal with it yourself'," he shook his head while cursing under his breath. Then he looked at the Huntress with a glint in his eyes, "However, sometimes they send something useful. This usually comes after I tell them something interesting. Like, say, how an entire pack of werewolves was found dead near Pran. A pack of werewolves that I had previously sent them a report about, only to be told they were busy with 'important matters'."

"And, what did they say back?" she asked, though she make some accurate guesses.

"Just that they're sending two Heroes alongside a couple of Inquisitors to investigate what happened. No doubt they'll tear Pran inside out looking for a hint of who took out the werewolves. And I don't think the townsfolk would appreciate being interrogated."

"Do the people here dislike the Order?" the Huntress' curiosity was flaring up.

"They tolerate the Order," he answered with a shrug, "No one wants to deal with them, but they're leagues better than the monsters. Not to mention how most of the Heroes are affiliated with them one way or the other. Can't exactly fight off a monster offensive without at least one of them."

"So, if I understand this correctly," the Huntress began while placing an arm on the table, "You wish for me to step forward as the one who killed the werewolves to placate the Order. In return, you won't put me in the dungeon, thus pardoning any crimes I may have committed?"

"Glad to see we're on the same page. Though, I am gonna have to ask you to be a bit subtler with the things you do. Last thing I need is for people to start thinking we guards are incompetent," Felix nodded while taking his hands away from his cat. The feline meowed and hopped up the Captain's arm to perch on his shoulder. He asked the Huntress, "So, what do you say?"

The Huntress was silent for a few minutes as she mulled over the offer. If she said no, he'd likely place her in the dungeons for a few days. Under normal circumstances, that wouldn't be much of a problem. She could simply enter the Dream to keep herself occupied, or fight her way out if needed. However, she'd lose her chance to speak to people apart of the Order and leave Horace and Gloria alone for multiple days. Meanwhile, agreeing would let her avoid jail time and give her a chance to learn about the Order.

Taking that into account, the Huntress nodded to Felix, "I agree to your deal. When will the Heroes get here?"

"In two days. They'll enter through the south gate. Likely be here by morning. Make sure you're up," Felix stood up from his seat and held his hand out for a shake. The Huntress took it and shook heartily.

"Before I go," the Huntress said as she stood up from her chair, "Can I ask one thing of you, Captain?"

"Sure, what is it?" Felix shrugged.

She tried to keep the nervousness out of her voice as she said, "May I...may I pet your cat?"

* * *

"Horace?" Gloria stared at her brother, knees hugged to her chest.

"Yeah, Gloria?" Horace replied, his eyes focused on the blacksmith as he hammered away at a burning weapon. His sister sat next to him on the stairs leading up into the man 's home.

"Where did the guards take Ms. Cynthia?"

"I don't know."

They were silent for two minutes.

"When are they going to let her go?"

"I don't know."

Silence.

"Is she going to come back for us?"

He forced his reply down. His hand moved to hold his sisters in a tight reassuring grip. He smiled at her, "Of course she will. She promised, remember? She doesn't break promises. She told me so."

He couldn't tell if Gloria could see through his false confidence. She merely turned her attention back to her knees, mumbling uncertainties under her breath. He felt his chest tighten at the sight and turned his attention to the blacksmith. His eyes followed the sparks leaping from the metal every time the hammer came down. The blacksmith's wife, a large woman gravid with child, called the two of them up for food. Gloria's stomach growled making her look away from her brother in embarrassment. He laughed and told her to head upstairs ahead of him.

She didn't argue, standing up and letting his hand go before walking her way up the stairs. He waited until her footsteps were a good distance away. Then he stood up with a determined look on his face. The advice Nick had given him rang in his ears as he approached the blacksmith's anvil.

The tall man put his hammer down when he noticed the child. He knelt to be level with the boy's eyes before asking, "What's wrong lad? Didn't you hear Gilda? You should go upstairs, lest she tan both our hides for letting our food get cold."

"Sword."

Harlod frowned and moved his ear closer to the boy, "What was that? If you've got something to say you're gonna have to speak up boy."

"I want a sword," Harlod's eyes widened in surprise as he turned them to observe the lad standing before him. Horace's hands were curled into fists, but his body didn't shake in the slightest, "I want a sword. Can you make me one?"


	16. Love From Afar

"Ares. Don't you think you're overreacting?"

"Overrea...did you not listen to a single thing I said, Eos?!"

"Of course I did. It's just I think you're blowing this out of proportion. It's just one woman."

"One woman who has no qualms about killing Mamono, shed no tears as she slaughtered their children, resisted the wailing of a Banshee, and tried to shoot me in the face!"

"But weren't you in your Mana form? Wouldn't anything she did just pass through you?"

"Yeah, that's what makes it so bad! If we let her be, all the progress we've made will mean nothing. She'll return us to a time when the war was nothing but bloodshed, death, and tears. And this time, we won't be able to do anything about it!"

"And that's where I disagree, honey. I sincerely doubt she'll cause that much trouble. But, because I love you and don't like seeing you stressed, I sent a cupid down to handle it."

"You...sent a cupid?"

"Deep in their heart of hearts, all mortals wish to love and be loved. No matter how distant, cold, or frigid they are, no one can resist its siren call. Those who say they can are lying to themselves and the arrows my cupids use shall show them the error of their ways. I'm sure this strange woman will be no different."

"...Did you not hear what I said about her not having Mana? And being able to destroy any Mana that enters her body?"

"Mana can be used to lead people to love, but it is not the ultimate cause of it. Love is something that transcends even the Energy that powers our world."

"...Alright then. You try your way. I'll see about contacting Hel. If your way doesn't work, don't be afraid to come crying to us for help."

* * *

"And you are certain of this?"

Akuri's eyes were focused on the floor as she knelt in the presence of her Mistress. She let a few seconds of silence pass before she answered, "Yes, Mistress."

Her Mistress was silent for a few minutes before replying, "Do you know what the stranger did with Teresa after she dragged her into the manor?"

"I'm afraid not, Mistress," the Kunoichi's hand curled into a fist in shame, "I...I retreated from the area before I could confirm it. I am deeply ashamed." She braces for the coming berating, her heart beating faster as she imagined her punishment.

"I see," Akuri's heart skipped a beat. The sound of her Mistress' footsteps heading to one of the windows confirmed her suspicions. She was not going to be punished.

She didn't know whether to feel relieved or worried.

"What can you tell me about the stranger? Do you have any thoughts on how they managed to defeat Teresa?"

Regaining her composure, the Kunoichi answered, "Very little, Mistress. She is a skilled combatant and wields a strange double blade that can be split apart at will into a sword and dagger. She also carries what appears to be a cylindrical weapon that can launch small projectiles."

"Hmm. Anything particularly interesting?"

The battle replayed over and over again in Akuri's mind as she attempted to find any important detail she may have missed, "Three things, my Mistress. First, the opponent has no Mana. I know how that must sound, but please believe me. During the entire battle, I sensed no Spiritual Energy coming from her at all. Second, the Dhampir managed to hit the stranger with a point-blank Lust Spell. It did not hamper her opponent in the slightest. If anything, the stranger fought harder after being hit by it."

Akuri swallowed audibly, mentally preparing herself to deliver the last piece of information, "Finally...the stranger...my Mistress...she isn't a Hero. She's a ruthless murderer. The entire battle she was fighting to kill. I'm sure the fact that Teresa survived is either due to sheer luck, or the stranger purposely let her live. She knows nothing of our whereabouts, but I have no doubt that she is the most dangerous person in that village."

Akuri bent lower until her head touched the polished floor below, "At the risk of sounding insolent, I ask that you allow me to deal with this person. I shall ensure she does not become a threat to us."

Her Mistress didn't reply. Akuri felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She could hear her heart hammering away in her chest as the silence stretched on between them.

At last, her Lady replied, "There is no need to do that."

"But my-"

"Akuri," the Kunoichi went silent at the sound of her name, "Wasn't your original mission to ensure the Dhampir never discovered our whereabouts? I do not see what antagonizing this 'stranger' has to do with your objective. If anything, they have done your job for you by ensuring the Dhampir will be too preoccupied with her latest defeat to track us down. Am I wrong?"

Akuri prepared to argue until she remembered who she was speaking to. Chiding herself for allowing her emotions to rule her like that, she lifted her head from the floor and spoke, "No, my Mistress. It is as you say."

A minute of silence went by before her Lady spoke again, "However...I am interested in this stranger you speak of. Perhaps it would be...wise for you to observe them instead. For the sake of learning about a potential danger, of course!"

Akuri felt her spirits lift while a grin came across her face, "Of course, Mistress."

"And, if you do happen to defeat this stranger in pitched combat, you can bring her to me so that we may learn of the Dhampir's current location...so that we can keep track of her, you understand!"

"Of course, Mistress. Should I go alone?"

"Take Kogero and Corelia with you. You will require their assistance if this stranger is as powerful as you say."

Akuri brought both her arms in front of her chest and bowed, "By your will, Mistress."

Within a moment, the Kunoichi vanished from her Mistress' Throne room. She reappeared in front of a door under a dark stone archway. She pushed the door open without breaking her stride.

Kogero lifted her head and smiled as the Kunoichi stepped into the room. The Ochimusha stood up from her kneeling position, katana sheathed at her side. Her black ponytail swished in the air as she bowed too deeply to Akuri, "Akuri-sama. I trust you gave your report to Lady Scarlet?"

Akuri returned the undead's bow, "Indeed, Kogero-sama. Do you know where Corelia is by any chance?"

The undead's smile turned to an annoyed frown as she pointed to her right. Akuri followed her finger to a sight that made her sigh in frustration.

A woman, her clothes haphazardly thrown onto the ground, was straddling a man being held down by magical black chains. There was a thick layer of musk in the air that Akuri only now became aware of. She tried to keep her mind off her own increasing passion long enough to cough into her hands to get the woman's attention.

When the pale-skinned woman didn't respond, Akuri said aloud, "Corelia-san."

Corelia didn't stop her riding, throwing her head back to look at Akuri. She smiled through the thrashing of her long dark hair, speaking in between grunts of pleasure from both her and her captive mate, "Oh, hello Akuri. I didn't hear you come in. Did you want to join?"

Akuri was silent for a few seconds, before shaking her head to clear it before she answering the Dark Mage, "Not now, Corelia-san. I was actually looking for both you and Kogero. The Mistress has given us a mission, and we are to see it through post-haste."

Kogero's eyes widened in excitement at the thought of serving her Lady. Her grip on her sword's guard tightened while Corelia rolled her eyes, "Really? Can't it wait for a few minutes? I think I'm close to creating a spell that will increase a man's stamina by 150%! I just need a bit more time to test it."

"Corelia-san," Kogero frowned at the Dark Mage, "Our Lady's orders go above all else. The way you dismiss them without a single thought sickens me."

"Really?" Corelia smiled mischievously, "And how is your search for a 'Lord' going again? Or did you think none of us noticed the times you sneak out of the castle to gazing longingly at the village nearby? If it bothers you that much, I can brew you a simple Love Potion to help you catch a man. Though, you'll have to promise to share~."

Kagero went rigid for a moment with her grip tightening on her sword, prompting Akuri to interject before she did something rash, "Now, now you two. We don't have time for this. You can finish up later, Corelia, right now we need to go."

"Oh, fine," the Dark Mage pouted while slamming her hips down one last time. The man cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain as he struggled against his bonds. Corelia got to her feet once he had shot his last and with a snap of her fingers, her body was fully clothed. She pushed her black wide-brimmed hat up before turning to Akuri with a sultry smile, "So, which of my talents does Lady Scarlet require?"

Akuri nodded and began to debrief her two friends on their target. They'd go after the stranger the moment night fell. Once they were all in agreement on the plan, they split up to make preparations.

* * *

"Now, why did you do that Horace?" the Huntress asked as the boy stood stock still with his arms held out to his sides. A woman in a red dress kept running a rope from his chest to the tip of his fingers, nodding, then moving on to another part of his body.

The boy averted his eyes from his mother's judging gaze, "I...I want to be able to protect Gloria when you're not around."

The Huntress' eyebrow raised as her gaze went to the boy's sister sitting at her side. The girl was too enraptured with the various multi-colored dresses that lined the walls of the tailor shop they were in. She sighed while shaking her head. Of course that was the reason, "While your heart is in the right place, you are much too young to learn swordsmanship."

"But what else can I do?" Horace grit his teeth in anger, "Stay weak and not be able to help her when she needs me again?!"

The Huntress frowned, her eyes going to Gloria's back. They were covered by her clothing, but the Huntress had seen them when she took them to the river to bathe. Scars, likely made by taut leather whips, ran the length of Gloria's back. They were raw and the flesh around them hadn't healed correctly, indicating mistreatment of the wound. She had tried to get Gloria to tell her about them, but the girl went into a crying fit that she wouldn't be out of for quite a while whenever she tried.

"No," the Huntress chose her words carefully to not upset the child, "but if you throw yourself into learning swordsmanship with no prior preparation, all you will accomplish is injuring yourself. Then who will defend Gloria?"

"But...but...," Horace went silent, frustration evident on his face as the reality of his situation set in.

The Huntress counted to ten before she continued, "Which is why you should focus on building your physique instead." The boy's head swiveled to her with hope starting to shine in his eyes. She smiled behind her bandana and pointed towards the boy, "There's plenty a developing young man can do to prepare his body before training with real weapons. Cutting firewood, carrying heavy objects, running, and so on."

Horace shot Cynthia a puzzled look, "But aren't those just chores?"

The Huntress nodded as the woman stepped away from Horace, waving to let him know he could relax. The boy sighed in relief as he let his arms fall, hopping around to get his blood flowing. The Huntress looked towards the tailor, "Thank you again for this, Nelia. I'm not sure I can ever find a way to repay you."

Nelia waved the Huntress off, her blonde hair bobbing over her pudgy face and wide smile, "Oh, it's no trouble at all! Who wouldn't lend a helping hand to children who need it? Now, I think I have just the thing for the young gentleman here. Just a moment!"

She skipped off into the rest of the shop, multi-colored dress flowing behind her. The Huntress stood up as Horace walked over to her. She stared down at him and said, "Five years. Hone your body in this way for five years, and then you will be prepared to learn to wield a blade."

"But that'll take too long!" Horace exclaimed as his sister hopped off her seat and headed towards one of the dresses in the shop, "I need to get stronger now! You're strong, Ms. Cynthia. Can't you teach me?"

A black-gloved hand came down on the boy's head, gently tussling his black hair as she replied, "There are no shortcuts in life, Horace. And those that are there are illusions meant to mislead you." At the young man's dejected stare she added, "Do not worry, you won't be alone in this endeavor. I will be there to assist you."

Horace's spirits lift when she says that. He looked up at her with a determined smile and gave her a short nod. She returns it as Gloria came back, a light green dress held in her hands. She mouths the words "Can I?" to which the Huntress' yes sends the girl into a happy jumping fit as she held the dress tight to her chest.

Nelia reappeared with an article of clothing in each hand. A clean, solid red shirt swung in her right hand, while black trousers were held in her right. The smile on her face made Horace tense up as she placed the clothes against his body, "Aha! Just his size!"

Horace glanced between the bubbly woman and the Huntress unsure of what to do. Cynthia looked at the shop owner, "How much will it cost to purchase this and that?"

She tilted her head at Gloria who eagerly ran up to the woman and lifted the dress for her to see. Nelia giggled and replied, "Oh, sixty gold should do. Consider it a special discount for such lovely children!"

The Huntress thanked the young woman, paid for the new clothes, and stepped outside to wait for the children to finish getting dressed. She leaned against the gray stone walls of the shop, taking out her coin purse and shifting through it with two fingers. The sun was setting in the distance casting an orange hue over the buildings. Many citizens had gone home for the day leaving the streets relatively empty.

The Huntress frowned as she placed the bag of two hundred, forty coins back into a pocket. Her funds had depleted quite a bit, but she had enough to keep the children fed for a time. However, she would have to start looking for a way to bring in a steady stream of money. Until then, she could look for Jet and see if there's an opening in their team. Or perhaps Captain Felix would be open to letting her deal with a few outstanding mounter sighting?

"Lady Cynthia!"

The Huntress looked up from her musings, spotting Nick walking towards her from her left. She turned to greet the man and spotted a young woman tugging on his arm as he got closer. While he wore a casual slightly open white shirt, she had on a clean light green dress that went down to her ankles.

The Huntress waved to the young man, "Nick. It is good to see you well. How have you been?"

"Better than ever after your generosity," Nick admits with a sly smile, "Not sure how I'll be able to pay you back for that.."

The Huntress shook her head, "No need to worry. I simply rewarded you for a job well done. Might I ask, who is the young lady with you? I feel I have seen her before."

"That you have," Nick grabs the girl by the arm and moves her to his side. He ignores her frightened yelp, placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her from running away, "This here's my sister, Maggie. I believe you bought a few of her handmade statues a few days ago?"

The Huntress' eyes went wide as the girl's face registered in her memory. A weak laugh comes from the young woman's lips, as she shoots her brother a death glare that he ignores. Cynthia could tell why the girl was uneasy and bowed her head in an attempt to calm her down, "Good afternoon, young lady. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I apologize if our previous meeting upset you."

Maggie blinked twice before quickly bowing herself while speaking in a rushed tone, "No, no, no! It is I who should apologize, Lady Cynthia! I am the one who overreacted to you."

"Which was a direct result of how I carried myself that day," the Huntress straightened her posture, "As such, the fault lies with me."

Seeing where this was going, Nick jumped into the conversation, "So, what's a noble such as yourself doing out here with the common folk?"

The Huntress raised an eyebrow underneath her hat. Her response was stopped when the door to the tailor swung open and her children came rushing out. Horace and Gloria, wearing their new clothes, ran to their guardian's side and spotted the two new arrivals.

"Nick!" the older man knelt to be level with Horace as the young boy ran to him. Gloria shyly stood behind the Huntress' leg, trying to avoid Maggie's gaze. The Huntress looked down at the young girl and gestured for her to say hello to the young woman. The girl shook her head and hid further behind the Huntress. Cynthia sighed before shrugging at Maggie who waved the rejection off.

The Mercer brother ran a hand through the young boy's hair with a laugh, "Hey scamp. You been protecting your sister like I told you?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically, "Uh-huh! Ms. Cynthia says she's going to teach me how to use a sword!"

"Really?" Nick smiled up at the Huntress, "Taking students, huh? Could I get a few lessons?"

"I'm afraid there will be no formal teaching. I will merely be helping him prepare his body to wield a blade. It is better than handing him a slab of metal he can barely lift, then having him swing it until his arm flies out of its socket," the Huntress explains while shaking her head.

"Sure you couldn't just give him a stick and have him wail at a stump?" Nick chuckled, standing up with a smile, "Though that does remind me, do you need any more work done? I know some good places to go, and my sis is good with kids. I'm sure she can show you some pointers on how to raise 'em."

Maggie shot her brother another glare before chuckling nervously, "Oh, not really. I just take care of our younger brother a lot. He's about the same age as your kids. Could you tell us their names, if you don't mind?"

"Certainly. This excitable young man is Horace," the Huntress gently pulled the young boy back to her side, placing her other hand on Gloria's head, "and this shy little girl is Gloria. They're siblings. And actually, I-"

The Huntress stopped mid-sentence, her ears pricking up at a familiar sound whistling through the air. Instinctively, she pushed her children towards the older siblings and turned to place her body between the four and where the sound was coming from.

She felt the familiar sting of something piercing her heart.

She closed her eyes, preparing for the embrace of death...but it didn't come.

Her eyes narrowed as she opened them, looked down, and beheld a hard black arrow piercing her chest. She could feel its tip piercing straight through her, yet felt no pain from the wound. Maggie gasped from behind her as she grabbed the shaft of the arrow sticking out of her chest. With a quick grunt, she snapped the arrow in half, then yanked the remains out of her back. She held both halves of the arrow up to her face taking note of the heart-shaped tip that had penetrated her body.

With a frown she looked up, her eyes roaming the orange sky for the culprit. She spotted a white and pink streak out of the corner of her eye heading westward. Throwing the broken arrow on the ground the Huntress prepared to rush after the archer but felt something tug at her.

She turned around to see Gloria's tiny hands grabbing the hem of her coat. The little girl had tears in her eyes and was repeatedly yelling, "Don't go! Please, don't leave us again!"

The Huntress felt her heart wrench as her eyes shifted between the retreating archer and the tears of her child. Indecision warred within her mind until she latched onto what Gloria had said.

She quickly moved to draw her children close, reaching inside her coat as she said, "Don't worry. I'll be back. Here take these."

She brought out two of the statues, pressing the wooden items into their hands, "These statues are special. As long as you have them, I will always come back to you. No matter where you go, no matter how far, no matter what. I will find you. I promise. So until I come back, you have to promise to be good kids for Nick and Maggie, alright?"

The children ran their hands up and down the statues before slowly nodding. The Huntress wiped the tears from Gloria's eyes, turning her gaze to Nick and Maggie, "Take the kids home. It's west of here on the edge of town. There's a key underneath a rock by the door. Keep them safe while I'm gone."

Nick gave her a thumbs up while Maggie's eyes were darting between the two of them, completely confused. The Huntress dashed away before she could ask any questions, disappearing into the deeper part of the town.

The Huntress ran into an alleyway, eyes glued on the sky as she searched for her assailant.


	17. Party At The Huntress' House

The Huntress ran hard as she chased after the rapidly shrinking pink dot in the sky. Her body acted on instinct as she weaved between the buildings of Pran. Many times her path was interrupted by a building blocking her way forward, forcing her to take a different route around it.

She lost sight of the foe for a moment as she came ran around one of the buildings, only catching the barest glimpse of it before resuming her chase. She cursed under her breath as she dodged past a family of four to get the enemy back in her view. Each detour slowed her down and gave her target more and more of a lead on her. If she didn't hurry they'd be over the town walls before she could catch them. And if they went too far she wouldn't be able to get home before night fell upon Pran. She needed to bring them down, else she prove herself a liar to Gloria.

The enemy came into view to her right as she ran down the alley, a hand rifling through her coat for anything she could use. Her options for bringing the foe down were thin. None of her throwing knives would reach the foe at this distance. A firearm could but their use would likely violate the deal she made with Captain Felix. Subtle is not a word she would prescribe to any of her guns. She needed some way to hit the enemy from a distance without causing a scene, but none of her current equipment could accomplish that. She needed something that could...of course.

A mental image of a young man in a tattered garb pulling back on the bow that was once a blade. Though Simon, it's original user, had bequeathed the weapon to her she had not made much use of it. It was a magnificent weapon but the Huntress could never foresee a time where she could use it. Her enemies always had a habit of spotting her and closing the distance before she could put it to use. But at this range...

She shook her head while spinning past a guard who tried to stop her. There was no point in following this line of thought. The Bowblade was sitting idle in the Workshop. It would take too much time to go and retrieve it. The enemy would be long gone by the time she returned. If only there was...

Her eyes narrowed as she remembered the times the Messengers had appeared to give her what she required. She didn't even vocalize her intent yet they knew exactly what she required at the time. And Eve had said she was now the Master of the Dream. Wouldn't it stand to reason that she could call the Messengers to give her equipment?

The city wall coming into view made the Huntress increase her speed while resolving to act on the idea. It was the only she had and she was running out of time. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and thought back to the time she was searching for the books in the Workshop. She called directly for the Messengers to bring her Simon's Bowblade, forming a mental image of the weapon as she did. She didn't open her eyes until she heard the faint chime of a bell in her ears.

Her eyes shot open as she instinctively bent low to the right. She felt a handle slam into her hand and gripped it tight. With nary a pause, she lifted the weapon, moved it into her left hand, snapped it into its bow form, and skidded to a stop in the middle of the road. She quickly dashed into the shadow of a building while reaching her right hand into the bag of Quicksilver Bullets at her hip. She pulled out the first arrow (she still did not understand how that worked) she felt out, nocked it to the bow, lead her target and fired.

Her first shot went wide. It passed well in front of the enemy, flying harmlessly into the orange sky. However, while it may have missed its intended target, it did have some use.

It made the target pause in the air for a few brief moments.

That was all the Huntress needed to line up a good shot. She slowed her breathing, sighted the enemy down, drew her arrow back until she could feel the tension in the string, then let fly.

It hit with enough force to send them into a falling spin. The Huntress quickly snapped her bow closed, watching as the now wounded enemy passed beyond the city walls. She groaned while jogging towards the gate. At the very least, she managed to take them down before they could get too far. Not to mention they'll be bleeding by the time she exits the city, leaving a fine trail for the Huntress to follow.

There were plenty of questions she needed answers for. Answers she was sure whoever her enemy was would have.

* * *

Jessica had experienced many emotions in her time. As a Cupid molded by the Goddess Of Love, it brought her an indescribable amount of joy to see her arrows spread love throughout the world. Whether that be helping two nervous lovers finally be honest with their feelings, or ensuring that lonely bachelors find their perfect wife. Watching as the world was filled with love made her own passions soar, though few could see it through the stony attitude she constantly put up.

So when Eros personally tasked her with helping this cold woman release the burning passion hidden within her, she accepted without fail. She could not wait to experience the feeling of helping another be honest with herself once more.

She never expected to watch someone pull her arrow out of their body.

Nor did she expect to be chased through the city by the very person she shot.

Now as she sat crying in a ditch behind a couple of bushes, blood dripping from the arrow embedded in her left shoulder as the sound of footsteps drew closer and closer, she experienced two new emotions.

Fear and pain.

She tried to steady her breathing while moving her right hand to the shaft of the arrow. She grasped it, sending a sudden shock of pain through her body. She yelped while letting the protruding projectile go, sobbing as her left arm lay limp on the ground. The footsteps from above the ditch were getting closer. Her eyes fell on small pools of blood forming beneath her injury, causing her body to stiffen in terror. Horrible fantasies of what that woman would do to her if she were caught made her breathing speed up.

Her hand slams down on the shaft in a panic. Ignoring the pain shooting through her body she put as much pressure on the arrow as she could. She cried out in pain when it snapped in half but quickly moved her hand to the tip protruding out her back. She dropped to the ground as it wetly slips out of her shoulder.

Precious moments are spent pushing herself to her feet and trying to power through the pain as blood leaked from her open wound. She gave her white wings a test flap and winced at the pain from her upper left one. The moment she took a step forward, another arrow pierced the ground inches in front of her right foot.

"Don't move."

A cold shiver ran down Jessica's spine. Her body shook uncontrollably in fear as she tried to obey the words of the woman she shot. She kept her head down, focusing her gaze on the birch white arrow embedded in the grass in front of her.

Her captor's footsteps got closer and closer until she could feel the point of an arrow poking her in the back. Jessica's body went rigid as tears began to roll down her face alongside her makeup. Her target spoke again in a clipped, calculating tone, "Turn around. Slowly."

Jessica, bereft of any other options, obeyed the woman's words. She carefully shuffled her feet to face her black-clothed captor. The cupid tried to get a bead on the woman's current emotional state, but despite their proximity, she kept coming up blank. She could make out surface-level emotions such as frustration, anger, and suspicion, but nothing beyond that. Curiosity at the enigma that was her target filled her mind.

That curiosity died the moment she came face to the face with her target.

For the time when her eyes met those of the strange woman's, was the first time she regretted being a servant of the Goddess.

Terrifying images forcefully imposed themselves upon the cupid's mind. Her hands went to her head involuntarily as she was assaulted with a deluge of horrifying images.

Of terrifying monsters with wicked claws that dripped blood.

Of men and women driven mad, bathing in puddles of their own blood and refuse.

Of giant, monstrous things clinging to buildings with millions of eyes pulsating in on their heads.

And blood. So much blood. Enough blood to drown the world twice over, with disembodied limbs bobbing up and down in the thick liquid.

But the worst of the vile images was the giant, black void that threatened to consume anything that got near save a single moon the color of blood gone pale. It floated lazily right in front of her eyes. It pulsed in a slow, steady rhythm that seemed to match up with her heartbeat. It had no eyes yet she could tell it was watching. Watching her. Watching the world. And waiting for the day it would be set free.

And when that day came, it would devour everyone.

The feeling of something warm flowing down her head brought Jessica to her senses. The cupid quickly brought her hands up to her eyes. Blood and pink hair follicles clung to her skin in red clumps.

Her breathing increased to the point of hyperventilation. Her hands went back to her head as she opened her mouth to scream.

Her outburst was cut short by an arrow piercing her right foot.

"Be silent," the sheer menace in the woman's voice was enough to silence the cupid. The messenger did her best to avert her gaze, but the black-clothed mortal gripped her chin with her now free left hand and lifted her face to eye level.

The human stared the cupid down as the Mamono began to whimper in terror. Then, after what felt like an eternity, the woman spoke with a sigh, "I can see it now. You have beheld something you were never meant to see. Hmm, I have a proposition."

The human let the cupid's chin go as she continued, "I have many questions for you, least of which being the reason behind your assassination attempt. If you answer them truthfully, then I swear I will cure you of the madness that threatens your sanity. What say you?"

Under any other circumstance, Jessica would've taken offense to being called an assassin or even the mere accusation of attempting to kill someone.

But at the moment, all she cared about was stopping the images that were replaying over and over in her head.

With little hesitation and a smile on her face, the cupid nodded to the woman's suggestion.

The two of them talked until the sun was setting in the horizon with the shadows of the trees stretching out along the forest floor. But while two of them had entered the forest, only the black-clothed Huntress had left it.

When Banshees came to the ditch to sing for the departed messenger of love, they found her corpse riddled with no less than twenty-three arrows and her face contorted in a permanent smile.

* * *

"Are you doing ok, Horace?"

Horace looked up from the statue of a praying knight in his hand at the smiling face of Maggie. He felt his cheeks heat up and shoved the tiny figurine into the pocket of his new pants, "Y-yeah. I'm...I'm fine."

Maggie smiled while turning her attention to the boy's sister, "And what about you, Gloria? How are you feeling?"

The girl didn't respond, tightening her grip on her brother's left arm while averting her eyes from the older girl. Horace whispered something to his sister that made the young girl shake her head in disagreement. Maggie's smile faded as her mind wondered why the girl was so cold to her. The three heard Nick curse as the third rock he had searched in front of Lady Cynthia's Manor turned up empty.

Maggie bit her bottom lip as her eyes examined the immaculate stone building. The two windows felt like eyes, judging them for daring to get close to its spotless visage. Sweat dripped down her back as she coughed into her hand before calling out to her brother, "Do you need help?"

"No, Maggs, I got this," Nick assured her after throwing down his fourth rock, "Probably should've asked the Lady to specify which rock the key was under."

"But what about Marcus?" Maggie looked back the way they came with worry in her heart, "It'll be dark soon."

"Don't worry about him. Besides I already thought of that," Nick shook his head and placed another rock down on the flower-covered lawn, "You stay here and watch the kids, while I head back and hold down the fort. Simple."

"Well, yeah you're right," Maggie silently berated herself. She wasn't usually this nervous. Was it something about the manor? Or what Nick said Ms. Cynthia had done? Her original impression of the older woman had certainly been disproved during their second meeting. But...something just didn't sit right with her. And she couldn't tell what it was.

She shook her head to clear it and turned her attention back to Horace, who was studying her statue again. She knelt to be eye level with him and pointed at the wooden knight, "Do you like it?"

"Uh, yeah," Horace nodded while holding the knight up to the setting sun, "It looks cool. And Ms. Cynthia gave it to me."

Maggie nodded then pointed at the statue, "You know, I made that."

"Really?!" Horace looked at her, this time with an excited glint in his eye that made Maggie swell with pride. She noticed Gloria take out her own statue, this one of him standing tall with his weathered armor.

Maggie giggled, "Yep. With my own two hands. That one took me a good three hours to finish."

Horace's mouth gaped as he looked at the figure in his hand in a new light. He turned to the young woman and fiercely nodded, "They're...really cool. Thank you for making them."

Maggie's smile grew wider. She reached out and rubbed the young boy's head, ignoring the sudden glare Gloria sent her way.

"Found it!" she shot up at the sound of Nick's voice. Her brother held up a small key in one hand while letting a rock drop from his other. He laughed in triumph before walking towards the front door. Maggie led the children up to the manor as her brother opened the door. He shut the door behind them as the sun finally dipped under the horizon.

Maggie quickly asked the children to show her their rooms, running after them as they went upstairs. She started back down once they were put to bed, but stopped at the top step. She glanced over her shoulder at the door across from Horace's room. She found her gaze glued to it as her thoughts turned to Marcus. She could see him walking out of the room with clean clothes on, his hair straight and free of grime, as she started running through the halls with Gloria and Horace. Maybe if she asked, Lady Cynthia could...

She lightly slapped herself out of her fantasies. Who did she think she was?! As kind as she was, Lady Cynthia was still a noble. There was certainly a limit to her generosity, and she did not want to be the one to make her reach it.

The young girl sighed and walked down the steps her heart heavy. She found her brother in the living room sitting in one of the flawless, floral pattern chairs. She frowned, coughing into her hand from the hallway to catch his attention. He quickly got out of the chair and stretched, watching his sister glare at him out of the corner of his eye. He chuckled before walking towards her with both hands in his pockets, "Just checking the place out. Pretty good, but that's expected of a noble, eh?"

"Yes," Maggie crossed her arms with indignation written all over her face, "And I don't think she'd appreciate you getting dirt and filth all over them."

Nick patted his sister's shoulder as he stepped passed her, "Come on, Maggs! You know I made sure to wash up before we left today. I'm probably the cleanest man in the slums right now."

Maggie rolled her eyes as he stepped to the door, grabbed the handle, then turned to give her a grin, "Welp, I'll leave watching the little scamps to you. Make sure you don't spoil 'em like you do Marcus."

"I do not spoil him!" the pout that came over Maggie's face made Nick's grin widen until it reached his ears. He chuckled as he opened the door...and comes face to face with women he had never seen before.

"Pardon us, young man," the raven-haired girl on his left said as she invaded Nick's personal space and pulled his arm in between her D-Cup breast, "But would it be ok for us to take up a little bit of your time?"

Before he could answer, another black haired girl did the same with his right arm, but this time leaning way to close to his ear, "We're lost and could really use a place to stay for the night. Certainly, you wouldn't mind if we stayed here until the morning? Just you and us?"

Nick tried to think up a way to tell them no without sounding too harsh, but couldn't get the words to come to him. Something about the way their plump pink lips smiled at him, their soft breast pressed against his chest, and their full dresses hugged their bodies just enough to show off their figures stopped any reply he could make.

And, despite her smoldering glare, he felt the same way about the third girl.

He nervously chuckled and said while trying to hide the growing problem in his pants by shifting his stance, "Well, I don't see why not, ladies. I'm sure my mistress wouldn't mind..."

* * *

"...What happened to me?"

The Huntress leaned against a random building, thankful that her clothing let her blend in with the darkness of the night. Her breathing was heavy, her skin felt clammy, and she could hardly see straight. She placed her back up against the building's wall and let herself slide down. She kept a firm grip on the Bowblade, but let the arrow slip out of her hand. A tightness gripped her chest as she tried to steady her breathing and heartbeat.

Her mind raced to reconstruct the events that transpired when she found her quarry. She followed the blood trail to a ditch within a small forest and found the winged Mamono just as she removed the arrow from her shoulder. She had knocked an arrow, walked into the ditch, and told the monster to turn around.

The moment their eyes met, the Huntress knew something was wrong.

The Mamono started to hyperventilate, her body shook with fear, and her hands gripped her head hard enough to draw blood from the scalp. Her eyes started to dart from side to side, looking well beyond the Huntress at something only she could see. Her mouth changed from agape in shock, to horror, to a perverse and disturbing smile that went from ear to ear.

The Huntress had seen it before.

The monster had seen something she was never meant to see.

The secrets of Yharnam.

The ones she was desperate to keep hidden.

That is why she had to die. The Huntress would've let her go once her questions were answered. Even if it was an assassination attempt, she had sworn to be less heavy-handed when it came to the use of violence. She would try to solve the problem with her words before she used her blade.

But this was different.

Any knowledge of her world had to be kept away from this one at all costs. She resolved herself then and there to end the life of the Mamono. Both to keep the world safe, and save the poor monster from the nightmares she was no doubt experiencing.

The Huntress made sure to get her answers first, but there wasn't much she could get out of the monster. The Mamono, a cupid, was a messenger of the Goddess Of Love, Eros. She had been sent to "show her the importance of love", which the Huntress translated as "brainwash her into compliance". She had been specifically aiming for the Huntress which eased some of her worries and anger. The Gods could whoever send they wanted at her, but if they went after the children then the gloves would be off.

Other than that she merely asked the cupid to describe the visions she was having. When she was done the Huntress prepared to deliver on her promise.

But...that's where her memory stops.

Her mind goes blank the moment she's about to end the cupid's life. Next thing she knew, the cupid was on the ground dead and riddled with arrows.

What could've happened? She'd never blacked out like that before, and she knew it hadn't slipped loose. Then...what was it?

What had she done?

The implications of the lapse in memory plagued her long after she had caught her breath, and walked the whole way home. The moon's light was muffled by thick black clouds encroaching from the east. A distant rumble hinted at the storm coming towards Pran. The Huntress' brief thought of getting Horace and Gloria something to protect them from the rain evaporated when she spotted a light coming from the living room. She raised an eyebrow, walked to the door, and placed her ear against the wood.

Unfamiliar giggles reached her ears. Narrowing her eyes she slowly pushed the door open, careful to ensure the hinges didn't squeak and announce her presence. She stepped lightly into the house, and carefully rounded the corner to the living room.

There she spotted something that made her eyes widen in shock.

Nick sat on the sofa with his arm around a strange woman who was massaging his chest.

Maggie was in a chair moaning as one of her breasts was groped by another woman.

And one more stranger was standing off to the side near the window, a frown on her face as she watched the actions unfurling in front of her.

But the thought of strangers being in her house wasn't what shocked the Huntress.

It was the fact that at least two of them were clearly Mamono. Yet the two humans didn't seem to notice, nor care.

The Huntress stood there for a good a minute before the five occupants realized she was there.

The moment they did, the woman massaging Nick screamed in absolute terror.


	18. Party's Over

"No, we stay here."

Corelia sighed as, right on cue, Kogero shot her suggestion down without a second thought. The Dark Mage tutted at her Ochimusha compatriot, "Come now, Kogero. It's been ages since we've all gone out together. Why don't we have a little fun while we're out?"

The Ochimusha, her plain glamored dress accentuating her rigid movements, scoffed at her fellow Mamono, "We are on a mission. Our Lady is counting on us to investigate this strange human and discover if she has imprisoned the Dhampir. 'Having a little fun' would distract us from that goal." She turned to the Kunoichi to her right, "What can you see from here, Akuri-sama?"

Akuri, her knees bent as she stared at the target's home, narrowed her eyes as the four humans shut the door behind them. She looked up at Kogero, uncertainty plain on her face, "This is certainly the woman's house. She brought those two children into the manor with her before she fought Dhampir. But the young man and woman are unfamiliar. They could be acquaintances or unknown third parties."

"Either way, they are not why are we are here and the human has yet to return. It would in our best interest to remain hidden and attack her when she does," Kogero's hand goes to the blade hidden beneath her dress.

Akuri stared at the Ochimusha with raised eyebrows, "I'm surprised you're so ready to fight, Kogero-sama. Did you forget what I said about our opponent."

"I have not, Akuri-sama," the undead bowed to her friend, "However, no matter how skilled she is, I have no doubt she will fall if all three of us attack her at once. Even a mighty bear can be brought low by a pack of wolves. And the quicker she is defeated the quicker we can learn the whereabouts of La...I mean, the Dhampir."

Akuri nodded and prepared to set up for the night, then jumped in surprise when Corelia grabbed her from behind. The Dark Mage groped her comrade's breasts with aplomb while giggling, "Now, Akuri~. You know you can't lie to me. Tell me you weren't thinking about what you would do to those two if you had them all to yourself."

Making no moves to stop Corelia, Akuri had to speak in between gasp as the Dark Mage continued her assault, "W-well, I, um, ah, ok yes. But, oh, but we can't."

"Why not?~"

"Because," Kogero shoved the Dark Mage away from the Kunoichi, steely gaze black eyes locked on Corelia's light brown ones, "we. are. on. a. mission."

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport," Corelia stood up while walking to stand between her two fellow Mamono, "The human we're after is probably off doing something important and time-consuming. Why else would she leave two children and her home to these two? I say we go down there and have ourselves some fun. I especially want that young lad with the red hair. Rough guys like him set my heart all a flutter~."

Corelia let out a happy little sigh while Kogero scoffed in disgust. The undead looked to Akuri for support...then found her palm hitting her face as the Kunoichi stood up rubbing her chin.

She knew what that gesture meant and dreaded it.

"You're not incorrect Corelia," Akuri says slowly, "and it would allow us to enter the stranger's home, giving us a better chance at taking her by surprise. And we could still look for the Dhampir while we're inside ."

Corelia shot a smug grin at Kogero, reveling in the fact that the Ochimusha was outnumbered two to one. Kogero shook her head in defeat, "If you believe it to be a sound plan, then let us go. However, I refuse to take part in whatever you two have planned for the two humans."

"You say that now," Corelia sauntered over to the undead, placing her arm around her shoulder while poking her in the chest, "but I know you'll come around once the fun has started."

She used her magic to pull Akuri over and place her free arm around the Kuniochi's shoulders, as she giggled into the night sky, "Trust me, girls. You won't regret listening to your dear friend Corelia~."

* * *

Corelia severely regretted stepping into the house before their target came back.

In truth, she only half-believed Akuri's account of the battle. She had heard of humans who could resist a lust spell fired at point-blank. She had even fought a few in her time. But what Akuri said sounded less like resistance and more like total negation. Which obviously couldn't be true. No matter how resistant to Demonic Spirit Energy they were, all humans would be affected to some degree. And all humans had a limit to how much they could resist before they succumbed to the passion roaring through their bodies.

She concluded that the stranger who beat the Dhampir simply had a higher than average limit to her resistance. All it would take is the three of them hitting her enough times and she'd be putty in their hands.

That plan has completely crumbled upon getting a single glimpse of the true nature of their foe.

What she was looking at was not someone with "No Mana". Nor someone with a than average higher resistance.

This was someone who could eat Mana.

The closest thing she could compare it to was an ambush predator. A monstrous growth that latched on to any Mana that got near and devoured it whole. The...creature (there was no way she was human) stood in defiance to every law that governed the world. That she could walk without tearing the air around her asunder was a miracle in and of itself.

There was no way they could win. Nothing they did could harm her. She would never be monsterized. Their entire plan had come undone the moment they set out to fight this woman. There was nothing they could do. Nothing she could do.

Except run.

As the glamors around their bodies shattered along with her concentration, Corelia reached into her open robes while falling to the floor. She ignored the pain in her backside as she hit the rug didn't concern her as she hit the floor and pulled three vials from clothes. Purple mist swirled within the cool glass as they fall into her open hands.

The ringing clash of steel followed by an exclamation of pain drew her eyes up to see Kogero being thrown backward. The undead landed on the rug, scrambled to keep her balance, gripped the handle of her blade with both hands, and stomped her feet down regain her balance. She went into a defensive stance, but her arms soon drooped to the ground along with a surprised gasp from the revived warrior woman. Corelia shared a look with Akuri, who's eyes were just as wide with shock, as they both realized what had happened.

The stranger had hit Kogero with enough force to not only push her back but make her arms go numb.

Corelia called out the names of her companions as she threw two of the vials in their directions. The last one tossed to the ground, the purple mist encasing her body as the vial shattered against the floor. Akuri and Kogero reached out their hands, only to pull them back as two arrows flew past where their limbs once were. The vials broke mid-air as the arrows pierced them, causing the mist to scatter uselessly.

Corelia called out her friends' names but could do nothing as the magic mist caressed her body and quickly made the image of their faces disappear with the sound of wind rushing through an open window. The last thing Corelia saw was an arrow coming straight towards her out of the corner of her eye before her environment violently shifted to a pitch-black forest.

She sat among the foliage with her heart beating rapidly in her chest for what felt like an eternity.

Then she shot up and started running towards the largest cluster of Corrupted Spirit Energy she could sense.

* * *

The Huntress was angry.

Extremely angry.

However, she knew that allowing that anger to control her would be foolish. Rational decision making would elude her and allow her opponents an advantage. That's without mentioning how they were all still within her home, and Nick and Maggie were still in the room. She understood how the mere presence of a Mamono could rob a human of their reasoning. Sentinel had explained it before they set off to complete the job. It would stop her from rushing headfirst into combat, even though she knew better than that thanks to Yharnam.

It was highly likely the two of them had been seduced by the power of the Mamono. The fact that Horace and Gloria weren't in the room was both proof that this had happened after the four of them made it inside, and that the children were likely upstairs in their rooms.

The two humans were innocent victims.

They didn't deserve her wrath.

The two remaining Mamono however...

Frowning at the escape of the third Mamono, nocked another arrow and swiftly fired towards the one still sitting down. The strangely dressed creature paused from drawing the twin blades on her hips as the arrow came flying at her. Her dodge was stifled by the dazed human still sitting in her lap. She cried out as it pierced her shoulder, Maggie falling to the floor as the monster failed around in pain and agony.

The sword-wielding monster, blue flames rising from the skull attached to the bones on her right arm, screamed, "Akuri-sama!" as her comrade struggled to pull the arrow from her shoulder. Despite the hate filling her eyes, the Huntress knew her drooping arms were still numb from blocking her attack.

The Huntress let the bowblade drop to the floor, as she closed her eyes as she recalled what she had done while chasing the cupid. Many Trick Weapons were made to inflict as much pain on their victims as possible. But Simon's was made to kill Beasts as quickly and painlessly as possible. And, at this moment, that wasn't something the Huntress wanted to do.

She wanted to make her enemies hurt. Make them regret stepping foot into her home...while not causing too much collateral damage to the living room. The Burial Blade was too large to avoid hitting the walls of the room, and while she could use the Rakuyo she had another weapon in mind for this battle.

A shout made her backstep to dodge a two-handed downswing from the sword-wielding Mamono. The curved blade was similar in design to the Rakuyo and Chikage. Under normal circumstances, the Huntress would question why this was. But right then her only interest was in defeating the monsters that broke into her home.

She backstepped again as the Mamono followed up her attack with a diagonal slash, kneeling as she heard the telltale sound of the Messengers groaning. She placed her right hand on the rug as the Mamono swung down at her again, hoping to take advantage of the Huntress current position. The Huntress felt a familiar wooden handle press against her gloved palm, gripped it, then swung it up into the path of the Mamono's blade. Sparks flew as her curved blade met the silver of the Mamono's, knocking the purple-skinned creature off balance.

The Huntress quickly stood, the transformed Beasthunter Saif shining in her right hand. The Trick Weapon was in its shortened form with the second thinner blade behind the first and facing the wooden handle. The Huntress smiled beneath her bandana as she dashed forward, lunging at her foe with her new weapon.

To her credit, the Mamono recovered quickly. She parried the lunging strike and followed up with a stab, then a horizontal cut when the Huntress dodged to the left. The Huntress blocked the blade with her own, dashing forward to lessen the monster's combat effectiveness. The purple monster's eyes widened as her weapon was rendered useless when the Huntress was but a few inches from her. With practiced ease, the Huntress slashed across the Mamono's stomach, followed up with a diagonal cut down her chest, and ended with one last cut across her vulnerable left arm.

The monster winced as blood scattered from the wounds across her body, backpedaling while sending a swipe which the Huntress ducked under. She tried to keep the pressure on but dashed back as a smaller blade passed right in front of her.

She watched as the second Mamono, blood dripping from her shoulder, stepped in between the two of them with her teeth grit. Her left arm cradled her injury while her right arm held a single blade in its grip.

"Akuri-sama!" the sword-wielding Mamono stepped to the left to keep the Huntress in her field of vision while yelling at her comrade, "You need to run! I can handle this!"

"Kogero-sama," the Mamono, Akuri, replied through grit teeth, "Corelia-san wanted us to run in fear the second she saw this woman. She's too dangerous. We can't let her get away, lest she threaten our Mistress!"

"But you can't...watch out!" Kogero jumped in front of the Huntress' attack, blocking the Huntress' first attack with one hand while the other pushed Akuri out of the way. The Huntress took note of how the wounds she had inflicted seemed to be healing themselves before her eyes. Specifically, the cut that ripped through the bandages covering the Mamono's breast had stopped bleeding as badly. The Huntress let out something between a growl and a groan. If there's one thing that annoyed her, it was enemies that could heal themselves. There was a method to slow this, but she wasn't sure if she could call the Messengers now that the second Mamono had entered the fray.

She pressed her attack her swift strikes easily bypassing many of the Mamono's defenses. If Kogero blocked one strike, a second would move too fast for her to stop. Also, getting in front of her comrade had forced her to forgo dodging lest she put the other Mamono in danger. A disadvantage of her own making. Akuri was currently making a strange hand gesture. Her mask wrinkled as her mouth moved in ways difficult for the Huntress to read while she was in combat. Eventually, the Mamono's eyes widened as she shouted, "Kogero-sama! Let's go with that combo!"

Kogero's eyes lit up in confirmation as she jumped back, dodging a horizontal swing from the Huntress. She landed next to Akuri, who dropped something on the floor that exploded into a cloud of white smoke. The Huntress closed her eyes as the thick fog surrounded her. She knew she wouldn't be able to see the two while they hid within it, so she focused on her hearing rather than sight. She could hear two pairs of soft footsteps circling her position in the fog, never once staying in the same place.

The Huntress knew they were preparing a powerful attack. She prepared to dodge...then stopped as a question entered her mind.

Did she truly need to fight like this?

The Mamono were dangerous...to the average person and Heroes due to their corrupting influence. Their use of Mana to corrupt opponents was nearly impossible to avoid as Mana was the life force of everything in the world. If it had Mana, it was vulnerable to Mamono Corruption. Thus the reason most Mamono weapons were made of Demon Silver. The metal didn't cause any actual harm to foes. It instead filled them with Demonic Spirit Energy, increasing their lust and making them susceptible to transformation.

But she had no Mana. Not only that, but any Mana that entered her body was immediately destroyed.

Meaning the monsters couldn't turn her.

Meaning their weapons did not affect her.

Then why would she need to dodge, block, or parry any of their attacks?

The Huntress let her defenses drop. She kept her eyes closed and listened for the attack. If she was correct then...

The footsteps stopped.

She heard the sound of energy gathering in two places at once.

Then the voices of the Mamono shouted in unison, "Secret Art: Bushin No Ryu Strike!"

The Huntress felt two blades pierce her body at the same time. One had pierced her heart, while the other had hit one of her lungs. She prepared for the embrace of temporary death...but like when the cupid shot her, it never came.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked down at the figure of Kogero, standing in front of her with her blade through her chest. The Huntress nodded, "Just as I thought."

She looked Kogero in the eyes and said with no emotion in her voice, "You can't hurt me."

Her blade slashes down and severs Kogero's wrist from her arms.

"Kag-," Akuri's shout is cut off by the Huntress' elbow smashing her face in. Her hand released the short blade stuck in the Huntress' lung to cover her bleeding nose. She stepped back in pain only for the Huntress to turn and grab her by her ponytail. She threw the Mamono to the floor then stomped on her uninjured arm. Her scream was drowned out by the crack of her bones snapping in half.

The Huntress pulled the two blades from her body as Akuri tried to crawl her way to the hallway. She dropped both to the floor and lifted the crawling Mamono by her collar. The monster writhed in her grip, her legs kicking out in an attempt to knock the Huntress off balance. She stopped when she heard the sharp, snapping sound of the Huntress transforming her weapon.

The Huntress placed the elongated Saif at the Mamono's midriff. Blood dripped down the blade as it bit into Akuri's side. The Huntress let the blade stay there for a few moments before pulling it back to cut the Mamono down. She kept her eyes firmly pinned to the whimpering monster before her, tensed her arm, and prepared to strike.

"Stop...please," the Huntress, her body ready to move at a moment's notice, looked at the other Mamono out of the corner of her eye. She was on her knees, the stumps at the end of her arms held close to her severed hands. The purple skin knit itself back together but not as quickly as earlier. Indeed, all the more recent wounds the Huntress inflicted were still leaking blood onto the floor. She stared up at the Huntress, breathing heavily with eyes filled with a pleading dread. She spoke between the gasp of pain she let out, "Please...let Akuri-sama go. Take...take me...instead. I will do...whatever you wish. Just please...show mercy."

The Huntress' eyes moved between the Mamono in her grip and the one kneeling before her. Her grip on the Saif tightened as her emotions warred within her. These Mamono had come into her house while her children were there, and tried to seduce and possibly transform two of her acquaintances. And, while she didn't know the exact reason they were here, she could infer it had to do with her. An ambush or assassination attempt, most likely.

She shouldn't be hesitating.

She should kill both of them, now!

But...she had sworn she'd be different. That she'd make things different. If she let her emotions rule her now, she'd be right back to square one. Back to her old self, to the machine that had painted Yharnam red with the blood of its inhabitants.

She couldn't keep doing that.

She had to be better!

But if she let them go with no punishment, they'd come back with better tactics and more firepower. They had to learn that attacking her house wasn't something they ever wanted to try again.

The tension around the three combatants was palpable. What felt like an hour passed before the Huntress finally broke the silence. Her head nodded while her gaze remained locked on Akuri dangling from her grasp, "Very well. She may leave, while you remain here."

A relieved smile came over Kogero's face. The Mamono bowed deeply to the Huntress, "Thank you, merci-"

"However," the Huntress interrupted as she let Akuri drop...only to grab her wrist before she hit the floor.

By the time the two Mamono realized the Huntress' intention, her Saif was already in motion.

It cleaved through Akuri's upper left arm, severing it from the shoulder in a spray of blood. Crimson coated the Huntress, Kogero's face, and part of the wall to her right. The Mamono fell to the ground while grabbing the stump that was once her arm. As she flailed about on the floor in pain, the Huntress walked over to where Kogero was crouched.

She placed the still dripping blade of her weapon over the Mamono's right thigh. Kogero looked up at her, relief replaced with a rage that smoldered within her black eyes. The Huntress paid the glare no mind as she lifted her Saif and said, "As punishment for entering my home uninvited, attempting to seduce my guest, and doing it all while my children are home, I shall take a limb from each of you. An arm from her and both legs from you. I'm certain you can see how this is fair, considering how quickly you can heal your wounds."

Kogero turned her head to the floor, hissing out with as much vitriol as possible, "Just...get it over with."

"I'd suggest you bite down on something. It helps dull the pain," the Huntress waited to see if the Mamono would take her advice. When she didn't the Huntress shook her head and brought her weapon down. There was little resistance as it cleaved straight through the Mamono's right leg. Even less when she did the same to the left leg. And, surprisingly, the Mamono had managed to muffle both of her cries by planting her face firmly in the rug. She did beat her since reattached fist against the carpet though.

The Huntress transformed the Saif back to its shorter form and picked up the severed legs. She turned to regard Akuri, who had since stopped writhing and regarded her with an expression of pure terror. The Huntress stared her down with uncaring eyes, saying in a stern voice, "Your comrade has made a noble sacrifice to ensure you're spared. I'd suggest you not waste it by remaining here. The door is still open. Leave. Now."

A jerk of her head towards the hallway was all it took to get the Mamono to her feet. She stumbled away, blood still dripping from her stump of a left arm. The Huntress didn't take her eyes off her until she heard the door slam shut. Only then did she let the tension-filled sigh she was holding in out.

She tossed the limbs in her arms onto the sofa along with the Saif, told the remaining Mamono not to move, and turned her attention to the two she had ignored this entire time.

Nick was a corner of the room, eyes wide with fear as the Huntress quickly walked towards him. She wasn't surprised at the gaze he gave her. It was the same one Blitz had when they were walking away from the Werewolf den. A combination of suspicion, worry, and fear. She didn't blame him. While he likely had an inkling of what she was capable of after he saw her return from the slums covered in blood, now he had a front-row seat. He got to witness the brutality of a Hunter first hand.

She would've been more worried if he didn't look at her that way after seeing that.

But Nick wasn't who she was worried about at the moment.

It was his sister, Maggie, held in his arms that truly concerned her.

The Huntress quickly knelt by Maggie's left side, examining her body. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as her hands kept moving up and down her own body in erratic motions. Her face was red as a beat and her thighs kept rubbing together, wrinkling her green dress as she tossed and turned in Nick's grasp.

"What's wrong with her?" Nick broke from his stupor to see to his sister's well being. His eyes shook as he tried to puzzle out what was wrong.

"Demonic Spirit Energy," Nick's gaze shot to the Huntress as she laid out the answer, "Your sister was around three Mamono in an enclosed area for an extended period. She's likely taken in a lot of Corrupted Mana, making her lust rise exponentially."

As if in response, Maggie moaned erotically while her hands started to maul her chest. She bit her lower lip with her eyes screwed shut. Nick looked from his sister to the Huntress in horror, "Wait...doesn't that mean she's...gonna turn into a Mamono? But then...why are you and I fine? I was around those three for just as long, and you just fought two of them on your own!"

"First, yes she will, unless what I'm about to do works," the Huntress removed the white glove from her right hand as she spoke, "Second, you're fine because you're a male, and didn't have intercourse with one of them. Your Untainted Mana is already replacing the Tainted Mana faster than it can corrupt you. She's gathering Mana from the environment, leading to her current condition."

The Huntress wasted no time in grabbing Maggie's left hand. She squeezed it firmly, remember what had happened between her and Sen but a few days ago. If her hunch was correct then...

"As for your third question. I'll answer that at another time. For now, hold your sister tight and don't let go," the Huntress said before closing her eyes.

At first, nothing seemed to happen. Maggie's breathing and groping continued as Nick held her, completely in the dark as to what Lady Cynthia was doing.

Then it happened.

Maggie's breathing hitched for a moment. Her body shot ramrod straight, her eyes shot open wide as dinner plates, and her left hand turned into a fist. The relief Nick felt soon gave way to dread as the color in his sister's face began to drain. He placed his ear to her chest and could hear her heartbeat slower and slower.

His eyes shot up and he shouted at the Huntress, "What the fuck are you doing to my sister!?"

"Saving her life," was the Huntress answer as she opened her eyes and let Maggie's hand go. Before Nick could say anymore, she placed a hand on his shoulder and stared him dead in the eye, "I'll explain everything later. Take her your sister upstairs, now, and place her in my bed. My room is through the double doors at the end of the hallway. Go! Quickly!"

Caring more about wanting his sister safe than arguing with a noble, Nick settled for a grunt of disapproval before rushing out of the room. He turned left into the hallway and soon his feet were heard going up the steps.

The Huntress let out another sigh, this one of relief, and turned her attention to the remaining Mamono. She quickly jogged over to the, now legless, monster. Kogero shot her with a defiant glare that didn't deter her in the slightest. She wasted no time kneeling and grabbing the downed Mamono's left hand in her right. If that had worked and she managed to stop Maggie from turning into a Mamono, then maybe she could...

She closed her eyes and repeated what she did on Maggie with Kogero. Kogero didn't make any attempts to resist, at first. But as she realized what the Huntress was doing to her, she struggled anyway she could. She through punches with her free hand tried to pull her left hand away, even tried headbutting the Huntress' arm.

But, no matter what she did, the Huntress did not let go.

And her strength was fading by the moment. Eventually, Kogero simply closed her eyes and waited for it to be over.

The Huntress opened her eyes when the assault had stopped. She started looking for any signs that her skin had gained a normal pigmentation, that her body had become less sexualized, anything that would point to a return to her human form. Unfortunately, she found none.

With a dejected sigh the Huntress tried to let go of the Mamono's arm...but couldn't.

Her eyes narrowed questioningly, as she tried again. She still couldn't let go.

She turned her gaze to the Mamono's arm...and gasped in shock at what she saw. Her hand was no longer holding a cold, purple-skinned arm of monster flesh.

It was holding bones.

The process rapidly progressed along the Mamono's entire body. First her arm, then her shoulder, then soon her entire left half had lost its skin. In a panic, the Huntress continued to try to remove her arm but her attempts were fruitless. She briefly considered chopping off her arm but dismissed the idea. As powerful as the Blood was she didn't think it could bring back lost limbs.

She kept trying and trying to let go of the Mamono, but her efforts were for naught.

She stayed attached to the Mamono until it's entire body was nothing more than a skeleton.

Only then did her hand finally release its death grip on the Mamono.

The Huntress didn't move. She stared at the skeletal remains in front of her, then at the pale skin on her palm. She opened and closed her hand, the cold feeling of the Mamono's hand still there.

Then she closed it into a fist and hugged it to her chest.

She sat there in the living room. No one to keep her company.

No one, save for the corpse, the severed limbs, and all the blood.


	19. The After Party

Nick nearly jumped when the door to Lady Cynthia's room burst open. The Huntress stood in the open doorway, her hat askew on her head and chest rising and falling with her rapid breath. Her eyes were wild with worry as they fell on Maggie's peaceful form. She ran to the girl's side, immediately pressing her ear to her chest while two gloved fingers went to her still pale neck. The Huntress glanced at Nick, asking in a panicked voice, "Is she alright?!"

A relieved smile lit up Nick's face. He nodded just as the young girl's heartbeat echoed into the Huntress' ear. Slow but strong, the Huntress felt her worry melt away at the sound. She stood up while placing a hand on her chest in relief, "Thank goodness."

The two were silent for a long time, their eyes glued on the gently breathing woman. Her cheeks had regained their pinkish hue and all her erratic movements had ceased. Her lips opened and closed in tune with her rising and falling chest. The small smile on Nick's face matched the one hidden behind the Huntress' bandana. They nodded to each other before stepping away from the bed and walking out of the room. The Huntress walked out last, gently closing the door behind her as they entered the hall.

Once it was shut they both let out sighs of relief that gave way to nervousness as the two searched for something to say. Numerous uncomfortable silent minutes stretched between them as Nick's eyes shifting from the Huntress to the clean floor, to the ceiling, then back to the Huntress. He made a show of clearing his throat before finally breaking the tension, "So, uh, I...I owe you quite a bit now, don't I?"

"Hmm?" the Huntress' head tilted with slight confusion.

"Well, you stopped my sis from turning into...a monster," he struggled as if finishing the sentence would make it come true, "Not many people would do that for a couple of slum rats like us. Heck, I didn't think anyone could do it till you came along."

The Huntress humbly shook her head as she adjusted her hat, "It was no trouble. Consider it my way of repaying you for walking Horace and Gloria home."

Nick flinched at the mention of their task. He couldn't meet the Huntress' eyes as he replied, "Yeah, yeah. Sorry, about that by the way."

"What do you mean?" The Huntress asked as her eyes scanned the doors along the hallway. Her sharp eyes spotted one with slightly cracked open and shook her head before turning her attention back to Nick, "I did not see them with you downstairs. Am I wrong in assuming you got them to their rooms before the...incident?"

Nick waved his hands up in the air, taking a step back in uncontrollable fear as he shouted, "No! No! No! Maggie got them upstairs before that! I promise!"

The Huntress waited patiently for the young man to collect himself and continue. She was not surprised by his reaction. He did witness her fight and mutilate two Mamono at once because they stepped foot into her home. Drawing that same ire to himself was the last thing he wished to do.

Nick took a few moments to compose himself before saying, "What I meant was, I'm sorry we let the monsters inside in the first place. I knew there was something up with them when I saw 'em. But I just...my mind started going fuzzy and...they smelled so nice and...dammit!"

A hand went to his head as he shook it out of frustration, "Why the hell am I still thinking about them like that?! They attacked my sister for fuck's sake!"

"It's what they do," Nick looked up at the Huntress as she explained, "They fill your mind with lustful thoughts, overpowering all rational senses to get you to do as they bid. Though you may not have slept with one of them, their influence over you shall likely remain for a time."

"But not you," Nick ventured, stepping towards the Huntress, "You're immune, aren't you? That's why you could fight them and why you haven't collapsed like Maggie."

"I...am not entirely sure that is correct," the Huntress admitted truthfully, "But I am sure that I can resist their powers to a high degree. And as you saw with your sister, I can seemingly draw the Mana out of others. This removes it from the person's body thus ensuring they do not turn into a Mamono."

When Nick was only a few feet away he drew his sleeve up and held his right arm up to the Huntress. He stared her down with conviction, "Then do me too. I want whatever's left of this shit outta my body."

The Huntress placed a hand on the young man's arm, then gently pushed it to his side, "I'm afraid I cannot grant that request. As I said before, your Mana is being replenished as we speak. Any remains of the Demonic Mana should be gone by the time the sun comes up. And in truth, I took a gamble with your sister's life. Even if it did pay off, she was in clear pain the entire time I was draining the Spirit Energy from her body.

She looked down at her white-gloved hand with disgust. She had hidden the remains of Kogero inside the privy. She would dispose of it properly once Nick had left and the children were put to bed. Her hand turned into a fist as she imagined the same thing happening to Maggie, "It is not something I can use lightly."

Her tone made Nick regret his decision. He bit his tongue before pulling his sleeve back over his arm. A silent tension came over them as the meaning behind the Huntress' words sunk in. Then Nick snapped his fingers as a smile came over his face, "Eh, you're right. Stupid of me to think that'll work all the time. That would be too good to be true."

He turned his back on the Huntress and started heading for the stairs while saying, "I should really get going. Marcus is probably scared sick by now with how long we've been gone. Mind if I leave Mags with you until she wakes up?"

"Not at all," the Huntress replied while waving to the young man, "Come back at any time if you wish to check up on her. And...Nick."

Nick paused on the top stair and turned to look at the Huntress. She cleared her throat multiple times as she searched for the right words, "Um, next time you could...uh...stay for dinner. If you wanted..."

The red-haired boy chuckled and nodded, "Sounds good. Far be it for me to turn down a meal from a noble like yourself."

With a short wave goodbye, the young man marched down the steps. The Huntress waved after him, waiting until his footsteps went out the door. Once he was gone, she turned to the door held ajar down the hallway, "Gloria, Horace. I know you're there."

The door slammed shut but the Huntress was already walking towards it. She sighed, knocked on the door, and said, "Come on you two. You're not in trouble. I just want to talk."

It barely took a few seconds before the door opened. The children walked out with the statues in their hands and eyes taking great interest in the floor. The Huntress sighed, knelt to their level, and put her hands on their shoulders, "What did you see, and how much did you hear?"

They didn't answer. The Huntress repeated the question. Horace spoke up first, "We... came down the stairs right when you got home."

"We heard sounds from the living room," Gloria expounded, "And wanted to see what was going on?"

"But we went back up when we saw you. Then...then the screaming started," Horace's grip on the figure tightened as he finished.

The Huntress looked between the two of them. Her face and demeanor were impassive but her heart was aching. These children had experienced more horrors than anyone their age had. That they were forced to hear more made her feel sick to her stomach. She pulled the children in for a hug, holding them tight as she said, "It's alright. I know you were scared but it's all over. I came back, just like I promised. It's alright now."

Within moments the two children were crying against their adoptive mother's shoulders. The Huntress held them tight until their heaving turned to gentle snores. Then she scooped them up in her arms, tucked them into bed with their figures, and started walking downstairs.

She had a lot of blood to clean up before the sun rose.

And she would need a little bit of help getting all of it.

* * *

"Welcome home, Good Hunter," Eve said as she stood up from the tombstone she was tending to. She bowed as the Huntress came up the stone walkway to the workshop, the light of the ever-present moon shining down upon them, "What is it you desire?"

"Hello, Eve. Sorry I haven't been around lately," the Huntress said while taking in the familiar scent of the flowers around the workshop, "It's amazing how many things can happen in one day."

"Oh," the Doll folded her hands in front of her while tilting her head with clear curiosity, "Did the 'Mamono' you spoke of trouble you again?"

"More or less," the Huntress said while squatting down next to a tombstone. She gently ran a finger across the name of the Hunter scribbled across the top. It was one she did not know, but an intense feeling of camaraderie came over her as she did. She sighed wistfully as she stood up, "I've actually come to ask for your help, Eve. There's some cleaning I...wait."

The Huntress' eyes narrowed as she turned around. She pivoted in a slow circle while carefully counting the numerous headstones that littered the entirety of the workshop. When she returned to her original position, she looked towards the headstone Eve was tending. She quickly walked over to the grave and knelt to read the name emblazoned on the front.

A chill ran up her spine as her eyes slowly moved across the words:

**Kogero Sakura**

**Ochimusha**

* * *

Kogero's breath was violently wrenched out of her as she crashed against the wall behind her. She fell to her knees, the blood below her splashing onto her clothes. Her eyes went hazy and her ears began to ring as she tried to stand. She stabbed her katana into the ground, hands aching as she pushed herself to her feet. Her ponytail had come undone, leaving her raven black hair to fall around her heaving shoulders.

The air around her was filled with the stench of death and decay, a dark mirror of the corpse and blood-covered landscape around her. That was the first thing she noticed when she woke up in this...place. She nearly vomited the moment it hit her nose and made her cough until her neck went raw. Undead she maybe, but this was entirely too much. She had never seen so much...so much...death and...blood. Why was there so much blood?

A splash of blood a few feet away forces her to her feet. Her eyes narrow with determination, but her hands are still shaking from blocking an attack from her assailants. There were three of them, their attire similar to the stranger who sent her here. However, her previous opponent has fought her and Akuri-sama with skill and talent. Her every movement was focused on dealing as much damage as quickly as possible while leaving few openings for retaliation.

But these three...they didn't care about retaliation.

They simply walked forward and attacked whatever stepped into their path.

They silently encircled her on all sides, ensuring any easy escape paths were closed off. Her head whipped between all three as tried to watch for the next attack. The one on her left raised a long, cylindrical object with a sharp spear sticking out the front. She heard a click and hopped to the right to dodge, only to gasp as he leads her movement. He fired just as she landed, her reaction stalled long enough to get hit by the oncoming projectile. The weapon pierced through her hip, blood splattering on the wall behind her as she stifled a scream of pain.

Another click came from her right followed by the shadow of a blunt, sectioned blade falling over her. Her katana came up instinctively to block, only to shatter as the weapon impacted her body. Both the bone armor covering her right arm, and the ones inside her purple skin were crushed to dust as the force of the strike knocked her to the floor. A coughing fit expelled blood from her throat as she tried to scramble to her feet again.

Then she heard a third click.

And the smell of blood was mixed with the smell of smoke.

She looked up as the shadow of the third enemy fell over her prone form. Her eyes went wide as a flaming hammer came crashing down on her head.

The last thing she heard was a loud explosion.

Then she woke up in the first room she saw when she came here.

She sat there for a time, staring up at the ceiling in complete shock. She didn't know how long it took for her senses to return. When they did she shot up, retrieved her blade, and checked around the entire room for an enemy. When none were found she felt the tension in her body leave her. She sat down with relief, thankful to be alive.

If she had been paying attention, she would've noticed something strange about her body; That both her breasts and hips had shrunken in size.

* * *

"Calm yourself, Good Hunter."

"Why is that there, Eve?!" the stomping of the Huntress' boots could be heard all throughout the Dream, as she paced back and forth across the workshop. One gloved hand was held against her chin, while the other was pressed against her head to keep it steady. Her eyes darted from the Doll to the grave outside, shaking in her head as she tried to make sense of what was going on, "Why is a Mamono's name on one of the tombstones?!"

"Whatever your question, I will do what I can to answer your them, Good Hunter," Eve said while stepping closer to the distraught Huntress.

The Huntress stopped pacing and starting walking towards Eve, "Then answer me, Eve. Why does a Mamono who I killed get a grave alongside the Hunters who left the Nightmare that was Yharnam!? Why does she get an epitaph with those who's journeys will never be remembered, told, or acknowledged by anyone outside of this Dream?!"

The workshop's foundation shook as the Huntress stood face to face with the Doll, a fact that she didn't notice in the slightest. Her mind was completely focused on getting answers, "And why is that specific Mamono here!? Why her and not the countless others I've murdered!? What makes her different!? Wh-"

The Doll pulled the Huntress into a hug.

All the frustration, confusion, and uncertainty in the Huntress disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"Calm yourself, my Hunter," Eve's soothing voice whispered into the Huntress' ear, "I will answer your inquiries to the best of my ability. So, please, compose yourself."

The Huntress leaned into the Doll's hug, steadying her breathing and closing her eyes in thought. She replied with a returned sense of serenity, "Of course, Eve. I am sorry for yelling at you. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course, Good Hunter," the Doll stepped back and began to lead the Huntress towards the empty chair, "Could you tell me what happened?"

The Huntress nodded as she sat down in the chair. She went through everything that had happened since her last time coming to the Dream as Eve massaged her tense shoulders. Meeting Nick, adopting Horace and Gloria, her fight and interrogation of Scarlet, her deal with the Guard Captain, the cupid's attack, and finally what happened prior to her return. The Doll hung on to her every word without a hint of judgment ever crossing her pale face. She simply looked down at the Huntress as her jointed hands worked out the new sore spots on the Huntress' shoulders.

The Huntress sighed, feeling the tension drain from her with every word she spoke. She looked up at Eve and said, "And that's why I was so distraught. I don't understand how she has gained a tombstone here. I drained her Mana away until she was naught but a skeleton, but how did it end up like this?"

The Doll was quiet for a time. She replied with her same emotionless, yet soothing tone, "I believe it is possible that you absorbed the monster's soul, Good Hunter."

The Huntress turns to stare at her friend incredulously. Eve continues without losing her calmness, "If Mana is the life force of those who live in this world than it wouldn't it be the equivalent of their soul? And if so, then absorbing a creature's Mana is like draining its soul from its body."

"Yes, that makes sense," the Huntress nodded then frowned, "But that doesn't answer why she has a tombstone here."

"I'm afraid the reason behind that eludes me as well, Good Hunter. Could it possibly be connected to your status as the Master of the Dream?"

The Huntress stared at her friend in thought for a moment. Then she shook her head and turned around, "I suppose that's the best explanation, at least until I look into it myself. Add that to my ever-expanding list of things to do."

The Doll tilted her head questioningly, but the Huntress shook her head, "Don't worry, Eve. I think I know of a way to find the answers I seek. But that will have to wait. I have an important meeting tomorrow, and I'm gonna need to find someone to watch over the children and Maggie while she recuperates."

"I could watch over the children, if you wished," Eve offered as the Huntress stood up from her seat.

The Huntress shook her head with a smile, "Thank you for the offer, my friend. But I'm afraid not. I do not believe the children would be able to...see you like I do. However, I will require your assistance. I made a rather large mess in the living room during the battle. I would appreciate your help cleaning it up."

The Doll bowed then went to gather her cleaning instruments, "As you wish, Good Hunter. But what shall you do about the children? They will require a guardian."

"Let's just say, I'm going to be calling in a favor from a few old acquaintances."

* * *

Jet sneezed loudly, drawing the attention of Sentinel and Blitz as they counted their gold coins. Sentinel asked his sniffling leader, "You get sick, Jet? Want us to get you something?"

"No, no," Jet gasped while reaching for the handkerchief he kept in his pocket. He wiped his face before continuing, "It's just a sneeze. Nothing to worry about."


	20. Calling In A Favor

"For the last time, Jet," Juliee huffed as she dropped the bounty hunter's crossbow bolts onto the counter in front of her, "I can't do it."

Jet looked down at his ammo then sighed with disappointment. He shook his head while saying, "Come on, Juliee. I have the money for it, so why can't you do it?"

Jet stepped back as the mage pointed a finger in his face, feeling his body tense up as her navy blue eyes stared daggers directly into his green ones, "Money isn't the issue. The danger and possibility of blowing up my shop are!"

"How hard could it be?" Jet shrugged while trying to not stare at the woman's jiggling breasts as she leaned forward on the smooth wooden counter, "It's just enchanting some crossbow bolts with a fireball spell. What's the problem with that?"

"Oh, nothing, just the ever-present risk of one of the bolt tips hitting a hard surface and blowing up in my face!" Juliee straightened up, crossing her arms under breasts barely contained by the collar of her short red dress. She leaned on her left foot, sending her short skirt swishing slightly along with her solid black hair.

Jet stepped forward, his eyes roaming the counter and lingering on three unlabeled vials and glass bottles to his right. Eyebrows raised in interest, he pointed towards the group of multi-colored liquids, "Then can you at least those? They look interesting."

Juliee followed his finger then waved her hand dismissively, "Some potions I'm experimenting with. They're mainly out for decoration, but if you'd like to test them for me..."

Juliee's sinister smile made Jet furiously shake his head. He leaned to the right and called out, "Hey Blitz, Sen! You two done yet?"

Blitz kept her back turned to her comrade as she scanned a greenish shelf, picking up a glass bottle with red liquid bubbling in it. She answered without turning around, "Still looking. Be patient."

Sen yelled an agreement from around a corner, making Jet groan in annoyance and worry. He was thankful when he heard the door to the shop open behind him. He turned to it just as Juliee shouted her standard greeting, "Welcome to The Magic Shield! How can I...eeekk!"

Juliee ducked behind her counter as the new guest closed the door behind them. Jet raised his eyebrow at her reaction before turning back to examine the newcomer. A wide grin lit up his face as he recognized the familiar attire, "Hunt! Good to see you!"

The Huntress smiled beneath her bandana as she walked towards the young man, "Greetings, Jet. Likewise. How have you all been since I've been gone?"

Jet walked to the Huntress' side and patted her on the back, "Oh we've been great, but what I wanna know is how you've been. How'd you even find this place?"

"I simply asked around for places that sell items that would be useful to travelers," she shrugged before waving her hand at the numerous trinkets, potions, and other items set up around the building, "This is actually the second place I've come to. I found it easily thanks to the directions I got from the blacksmith yesterday.

She frowned as her eyes roamed the room for a moment, "Did you also hear a girlish scream before I came in?"

Jet nodded and pointed a finger towards the counter, "Yeah, that was Juliee. She ducked the moment you opened the door. Don't know why. Hey, Juliee! Come out and meet my friend Hunt!"

Shaky hands reached up to the countertop as the raven-haired shop owner slowly revealed herself. But the moment her eyes caught a glimpse of the Huntress, she immediately went back into hiding. She shouted from behind her hiding spot, "Please don't touch anything! It took me weeks to make all inventory! Not to mention the time it took to get the materials to make them! Don't drain away my livelihood, please!"

A confused expression came over Jet as he looked at the Huntress who's gaze was pointed towards the floor. He frowned, whispering to the Huntress while jerking his thumb at the door. She nodded turning around as he led her outside into the morning sun. Jet stretched before leaning back against the store's wall, watching the citizens of Pran as they went about their day to day lives. He turned to look at the Huntress as she did the same, clearing his throat before asking, "So, should I ask what all that was about?"

He jerked his head at the door to the store as the Huntress turned her gaze to him, "Do you remember what was discovered during our mission together? The reason Sentinel wanted me to join the Order?"

"Yeah, but...oh right," Jet nodded his head in realization, "The whole 'eating Mana' thing. A mage like Juliee wouldn't exactly like having you near so many magical items."

"Unfortunately, yes," the Huntress looked down at her gloved hand, the fabric cool against her palm, "Yet another way this power of mine endangers those around me. How is Sentinel? Has his arm healed?"

Jet nodded while smiling, "Yep! Good as new! He might be old but he's still able to pump out Mana. But, does that really stop you from going into any Magic Shop? Or interacting with Mages? Do you just suck the Mana outta anyone the moment they get close to you?"

He stared at his right hand with worry written on his face. The Huntress shook her head, "No, I don't believe that's the case. It seems to be limited to skin on skin contact. As long as I don't directly touch someone, it should pose no danger to them."

Jet feigned wiping his head in relief, "Oh good! I was worried patting you on the back might have drained me a bit!" Jet started to laugh but stopped when he noticed the Huntress serious contemplation on the subject. Instead, he leaned back against the wall, "Anyway, how have you been? Haven't seen you in a good while."

"Almost a week to be exact," the Huntress replies, lifting her head from her gloved hand to answer him, "And I've been fine. Pran has proven a fine place. I even bought a house with my cut of the reward."

"Really?" Jet's eyes widen in surprise, "Didn't expect someone like you to do that. No offense, but I kinda had you pegged as the wandering type."

"Well, for some of us, constantly moving from place to place gets...tiresome," the Huntress' expression darkened for a moment before she shook it off and asked, "What of about you? How are Blitz and Sen doing?"

"Oh, we're doing fine," Jet replied, knowing the Huntress wanted to change the subject, "no new jobs yet, but we've got plenty of the reward from the last one leftover. We're gonna be good for a long while. Sen's getting on in years, but he's still going strong. I'd actually bet gold on me biting before him!"

They shared a small laugh at the joke before Jet continued, his expression dampening as he started, "As for Blitz, she's doing fine. Not much to say there. She's stopped moping about your feud, but I've been with her long enough to know that doesn't mean she's over it. I'd suggest stepping on eggshells if you decide to speak to her."

"Understood," the Huntress turned her body to face him directly, "which leads into my real reason for tracking you all down. I have a favor to ask of you."

Jet nodded, turning his body to face her while keeping one shoulder on the wall, "Hmm. Normally I'd be negotiating our price, but we're basically set with our current funds. And we do owe you for helping us take on that pack. Don't think we would've made it out of that one on our own. So, we'll do this for free! What do you need?"

The nervousness the Huntress spoke with surprised Jet as she asked, "Well, umm, how are you three with children?"

* * *

"They. Are. So. Cute!~" Blitz screamed as she scooped Horace and Gloria into her arms. She pressed their cheeks against hers, rubbing them while giggling softly to herself. The two children actively fought to free themselves from the woman's grip but to no avail.

The Huntress smiled at the three as she sat on her couch in the living room, watching Blitz interact with her children. The young woman spun around the room with Horace and Gloria in her arms while babbling incoherent nothings to them. Gloria tried to wiggle her way out of Blitz's grasp, while Horace tried to pry her arms off him. Sentinel laughed heartily at the display, a bright smile on his face as he stood under the entrance to the living room. Jet passed by the older man and sat down next to the Huntress. He leaned forward, waving at his companion as she asked the children their names, "That answer your previous question?"

"Indeed it does," the Huntress nodded at him, "Seeing Blitz take to the children that way is surprising, to say the least."

"Yeah, Blitz has always had a soft spot for kids. Think it might have something to do with our time training with the Order," Jet's eyes scanned the room as he leaned back in his seat, "This is a pretty nice place, Hunt. How much did it cost you?"

"Fifty thousand," the Huntress mentioned with a shrug, "Most of my funds, but I believe the house was a worthwhile purchase."

"Aye," Sentinel said stepping into the room, "Though I'd say this is more like a manor. I half expected to see a noble start walking down those stairs when we came in."

The Huntress gave a slight bow to Sentinel as he sat in the vacant chair, "Thank you for the compliments. Shall I explain my request to the three of you?"

"I think I can make a pretty good guess," Sentinel said while pointing towards Blitz, who was tousling Horace's hair, "you want us to watch the young ones while you're off taking care of important business?"

The Huntress' nod was quickly followed by Jet's reply, "Sounds like an easy job. Mind formally introducing us to the kids?"

"Of course. One moment," the Huntress stood up from the sofa, walking to where Blitz was seated, "Blitz, can you release my children, please?"

The young woman jerked the kids in her arms away from the Huntress, staring daggers at her as she did. But the returned glares from Jet and Sentinel made her stop. She released the children, who quickly ran to their surrogate parent. Gloria hugged the Huntress' right leg, burying her face in her black leggings while Horace stood in front of his sister. The Huntress knelt and picked up both children before turning to the gathered bounty hunters, "Thank you, Blitz. Everyone, these two are my children. The boy's name is Horace, and the girl is Gloria. They're twins I rescued from the slums. Horace, Gloria, these are friends of mine. Jet, Sentinel, and Blitz. They will watch over you when I leave tomorrow, so I expect you to be good for them, ok?"

"From the slums?" Blitz asked with a confused frown, "So...they're not...you know 'yours'."

"No," the Huntress answered with a shake of her head, "I adopted them. They were being abused by a gang calling themselves 'the Vipers'. I took them away from that."

" saved us," Gloria peeked out from hugging the Huntress' neck to speak, "She gave us a home."

"We don't doubt that little lass," Sentinel replied, "We all know how bad the slums can be. Guessing you had to fight your way out?"

Horace spoke up before the Huntress did, "Yeah, but Ms. Cynthia is really strong. She beat the strangers who came into our house last night all by herself!"

The Huntress quickly placed the two children on the floor and said, "Ok, you two. How about you both run off to do your chores?" Horace perked up at the sound of that, shouting about getting the ax before running out of the room. Gloria was slower to move, waiting for the Huntress to pat her on the head before she followed her brother out. The bounty hunters all turned towards the Huntress, their expressions clearly awaiting an explanation.

The Huntress stood with a sigh, waving in the direction of the stairs, "If you three were to head upstairs, I will explain everything."

Jet and Sentinel shared a look with the old mage jerking a finger at Blitz. Jet nodded before standing and heading upstairs with Sentinel following behind him. The Huntress went to follow but was stopped when Blitz grabbed her by the arm.

"Hold on," clear anger radiated from Blitz's voice as she stood from her chair, "we've got business."

"I know what you speak of," the Huntress didn't try to break out of Blitz's grip, "but know that any worry is unfounded."

Blitz threw the Huntress' arm to the side to grab her collar, standing on her toes to stare the taller woman in the eyes, "You won't blow me off that easily! What are you planning to do with those kids?"

She tightened her grip when the Huntress didn't answer, "Do you seriously think I'm going to trust your story after what you did? That you can just start a family, live a nice life, and then everyone will forget what happened?! Cause I fucking won't!"

The Huntress placed her hands on Blitz's wrist, "Then you shouldn't have a problem with watching over my children when the time comes. Now, please, calm down. I wouldn't want Horace or Gloria to see this."

With a slight tug, the Huntress removed the younger woman's hands from her collar, much to Blitz's surprise. Her eyes widened as she felt the Huntress press down on her thin wrist. It wasn't enough to hurt, but she couldn't break free of the white-gloved hands as they moved her arms back to her sides. With that, the Huntress moved to follow Jet and Sentinel upstairs, Blitz following behind soon after with her teeth grit in frustration.

They made it to the second floor where the Huntress quickly made her way to the door to her room. She pushed the door open, revealing Maggie's sleeping form to her three guests. She moved to stand on the opposite end of the bed, looking over the young girl as the bounty hunters filed into the room.

Sentinel was the first to move, rushing over to the side closest to the door. His eyes roamed her still form as chest rose with her slow breaths. His eyes narrowed then shot open as he said, "This girl's Mana deprived!"

"What!?" Jet and Blitz shouted in unison, both rushing to stand at Sentinel's side.

The old man shook his head while his eyes roamed the young woman's body, "She's stabilized, but her Mana is lower than it should be. At the rate her bodies drawing it in, she won't wake up for two days at least. But, how did this happen? For her to be Mana deprived like this, she was either fighting something or...,"

His eyes moved from the girl to the Huntress, followed by Jet and Blitz. Both men stared at her waiting for her explanation, while Blitz gripped the side of the bed while nearly shouting, "What did you do to her?"

The Huntress held up a hand as Sentinel prepared to reprimand Blitz. The old man stopped as the Huntress began to explain, "Yesterday, I was attacked by a Mamono called a 'Cupid'. While I was getting the children new clothes, it shot me with an arrow and attempted to retreat. I pursued it and dealt with it accordingly. Before that, I met the girl you see before you. Her name is Maggie, and she has a brother named Nick. He led me through the slums and to the children in the first place. We happened upon each other when the Cupid attacked. I asked them to take Horace and Gloria back home while I chased the Mamono."

She shook her head, "I wouldn't have done that if I knew what would happen next. When I returned, the two of them were being assaulted by three disguised Mamono. One ran away the moment she saw me. The other two attempted to fight. I...handled them accordingly."

She stopped for a moment to observe her audience. Jet's eyes were stuck in a perpetual state of surprise, Sentinel had his head pointed towards Maggie's face, and Blitz's face was contorted in frustration but she refused to meet the Huntress' eyes. She felt relief at how none of them asked her to elaborate. Telling them what had happened to the undead wasn't something she was ready to do yet.

She adjusted her hat before continuing, "Unfortunately, Maggie had been close to one of the Mamono for an extended period of time. She was filled with Demonic Spirit Energy and was starting to turn. I...I started to absorb her Spirit Energy. I held her hand in mine and drained the horrid substance from her. Thankfully, it seems to have worked. Which leads me to the rest of my request."

She stared the three bounty hunters down as she laid everything out, "I made a deal with the Guard Captain yesterday morning, and I need to uphold it tomorrow morning. I don't know when I will return, so I ask that you all watch over my house, my children, and Maggie until then. Her brother will likely visit while I"m gone. If he appears, let him inside. Any questions?"

Jet was the first to raise his hand. With a nod from the Huntress, he asked, "So...you're name's, Cynthia?"

The Huntress blinked once.

Blitz's palm hit her face with an audible slap.

Sentinel hit Jet on his shoulder, glaring at the young man with disappointment written on his face.

"What?!" Jet yelled while rubbing his shoulder, "Don't tell me you two haven't been wondering the same thing this entire time?"

"That's not the point," Sentinel replied with a shake of his head, "She just asked us to watch over her two kids, and a Mana deprived young lass, and your first question is about her name?!"

"Well...it's a nice name, and I was just wondering about it," Jet tried and failed to explain himself.

Sentinel's next admonishment died on his lips as he heard the sound of unfamiliar giggling. He turned his head to look at the Huntress, who had a hand covering her mouth as she chuckled away at Jet's question. Her fit lasted for a good minute before she managed to compose herself, "No...no it is not. It is merely an alias I used when the Merchant I purchased this manor from asked for a name."

"Ah," Jet smiled, proud to have made the Huntress laugh, "Makes sense. We're not exactly in any position to judge for that. Regardless, we'll gladly take the job. Right Sen, Blitz?"

Sentinel nodded, but Blitz was slow to answer. Her eyes moved from the door behind her, to the young girl on the bed, and stopped at the Huntress. She frowned before throwing up her arms, "Fine. But I'm doing this for the kids. They'll need a good role model for when they grow up."

"I"m sure they will," the Huntress said before moving towards the door. She stopped before turning to ask the three, "Now, would any of you like to stay for dinner?"

* * *

"There you are," the Guard Captain, Felix, said to the Huntress as she stepped through the gate, "At least you're punctual. The Heroes should be here within a few minutes." He wiped a gloved hand across his brow as the hot sun beat down from above. His plate armor, covered in dings and scratches from previous battles, shined as the sunlight hit it.

The Huntress nodded moving to stand at Felix's right while adjusting her hat to protect her from the sun's rays. She eyed the broadsword sheathe at the Captain's hip, before moving to the cat hanging off its shoulder. She resisted the urge to pet grab the ringed tail as it swished back and forth in the air. Instead, she focused on the open path leading away from Pran, watching for any hint of movement.

"Hope you got all your affairs in order. They'll likely be planning to take you off somewhere for a while," Felix kept his eyes on the road as he spoke.

"What makes you say that?" the Huntress asked, squinting her eyes as what four figures crested a hill in the distance.

Felix's chuckle was devoid of mirth as the figures got closer to them, "Cause if there's one thing the Order can't stand, it's something they have no control over."

The Huntress remained silent. After a few minutes, the four figures were close enough to make out details. Two of them wore similar long black cloaks with matching wide-brimmed hats. They each kept their heads down while holding their hands up in a prayer stance. She deduced that the two of them were likely the Inquisitors. The symbol of an eye with a ring of fire around it on both their shirts was her first clue.

The second was the other two stood out way too much.

At the head of the group was a young woman who had her blonde hair flowing freely in the morning breeze. She had a sword as wide as she was slung across her back, with a circlet wrapped around her forehead. Her breasts bounced with every step her horse took, her armor only covering her nipples and her upper chest. Her midriff was completely bared alongside her arms. Brown boots with knee-length white socks covered led to a short skirt that didn't reach her thighs. A frown was plastered on her face

To her left was a boy who didn't look older than thirteen. He wore blue, full-body robes that even covered his ankles. His boots were black, the same color as the small shock of hair on his head. He held a long curved staff in his right hand that was taller than he was He happily waved at Felix and the Huntress when the four stopped their horses near the two.

Felix bowed to the riders, "I welcome you to Pran with open arms Heroes. I am Felix, the Guard Captain. It is good to see the Chosen of God on this fine day."

The boy made to reply but went silent when the woman raised her right hand. She turned her gaze to the Huntress, speaking without portraying any emotion, "Who would this be, Guard Captain?"

The Huntress stepped forward before he could reply, staring the newcomer down, "I am the one responsible for the destruction of the werewolf pack Felix spoke of in his report. I was informed you were looking for the perpetrator and decided to reveal myself."

The woman's eyes narrowed as she examined the Huntress, "I see." She dismounted her horse and stepped closer to the Huntress, stopping two feet away from the black-clothed woman.

Then she placed a hand on her greatsword and shouted, "On behalf of the Order, I, Valarie Holden, hereby place you under arrest!"


	21. Meeting The Order Agents

The Huntress observed the Hero who had accused her with uncaring eyes. Everything she had heard about the Order to this point hadn't painted the best picture of them. Jet and his friends went out of their way to keep their activities hidden from the group, and Felix was willing to let her, a confessed murderer, go to prevent Order Agents from entering Pran. Such actions don't paint them people the common man wanted around, nor ones that were actively making life better for others. And, though she did not wished to admit it, it did cause her to form an unflattering image of those under the Order's banner. But, just as she did with the Mamono, she would withhold judgment until actually meeting a member of the Order.

The fact Hero currently pointing a massive engraved broadsword at her matched her negative image to the letter made her feel a mixture of proud vindication and acute disappointment.

An eyebrow perked up underneath her hat as she turned to glance at the Guard Captain to her right, "Would I be correct to assume you knew of this, Felix? Because if so, then know that I consider this a breach of my confidence as far as our prior conversation is concerned."

Felix, hand pressed to his temple, looked at the ground while shaking his head. He muttered something about a "Dammed Zealot" before turning to the Huntress with a shrug, "Don't put this on me. They only told me some of their people would be coming. Didn't give any specifics."

"Then would I be correct in assuming you had dealings with this criminal, Guard Captain Felix?" Valarie shoots an accusing glare at the armored man, the two Inquisitors behind her trotting their way forward.

With another shrug, Felix places both arms behind his head, "Not at all, Ms. Holden. I just a simple conversation with the accused to get a confession. Nothing more, nothing less." A smug smirk creases his lips as the cat on his shoulder lets out a short yawn. It seems to satisfy the Order members, as the Inquisitors back off while the Hero turns her attention back to the Huntress.

The Huntress nods to the man before turning her attention back to the armed Hero. Just as she's about to speak, the young boy calls to her with a his light voice, "Valarie, what are you doing?! We're only supposed to come here and investigate the situation!"

"And we have, Spencer," Valarie answered without turning to look at the young boy, "We have managed to not only uncover the culprit behind the occurrences, but we have confirmation from the perpetrator herself."

"Well...yes, but they never said to arrest anyone!"

"It was clearly implied. You don't seriously believe that they would want us to let someone who flouts the laws of the Order roam free, did you?"

Sputters and half finished words come out of Spencer's mouth as he tries to refute the woman's words. He consistently turns to the Inquisitors who seem content to ignore his pleas for help. Instead their eyes continue to shift between the female Hero and the Huntress with clear interest.

The Huntress quietly scoffed at the answer Valarie gave to Spencer. The way she selectively interpreted orders started to remind her of a certain Organization from her past. Hopefully, the number similarities between the two would remain low. For both their sakes.

"If I may," the Huntress started, "what precisely am I being charged with? I deserve to know what laws I have broken, correct?"

Valarie's face contorted with rage, her grip on her blade tightening as she spoke, "Watch your tongue, cur! To speak to a Holy Agent in such a way will only add to your sentence!"

Rolling eyes hidden beneath her hat, the Huntress replied, "Well I am unaware of the principles laid out by the Order. Perhaps you could enlighten me to what they are, so I may repent for my insolence?" It took great effort to resist the urge to lace her words with as much sarcasm as possible.

With an audible huff, Valarie let her sword drop to her side, "Fine. Putting you in chains will only bear fruit if you know what you should regret."

She drove the point of her broadsword into the earth then wrapped her hands around its hilt as she spoke, "You stand accused of two crimes against the Order. The first is the murder of six people. According to the report, they were possibly associated with a criminal element within the town of Pran. However, that doesn't change the fact that you murdered six people in broad daylight."

The Huntress didn't like that conclusion, but she could understand it. The guards, and by extension the Order, stood to gain more from capturing the gang members alive rather than dead. Her actions had both cost them possible valuable information and likely put the Vipers on higher alert, thus making them ore difficult to track. She nodded to the Hero and waved for her to move on.

"And the second," Valarie straightened her back, "is the removal of a Pack of Werewolves that were spotted in the area without proper permission."

The clearing in front of the city was silent as the Heroine's words registered in the Huntress' mind. Her eyes blinked three times over the course of two minutes as she gathered her senses. Felix seemed to be fiddling with his sword, but he kept both eyes on the two women as they stared each other down. Spencer swallowed nervously while the two Inquisitors eased their horses forward a bit.

The Huntress finally responded while holding a up a hand, "I beg your pardon, but could you elaborate on the second accusation?"

"You attacked and defeated a Pack of Mamono without getting permission from an Agent of the Order first. It is an affront to Her Holiness for those not blessed by her Chosen to fight the Mamono. It is truly very simple." Valarie rolled her eyes as if everyone should intrinsically understand everything she just said.

"You...," the Huntress began slowly, "...you are arresting me...for the crime of...defeating the Mamono?"

"Yes."

"The Mamono...who you are at war with...and pose a threat to the entirety of humanity?"

"Without explicit permission from the Order."

The Huntress was speechless. She stared at the girl with eyes wide in shock and confusion.

Then they narrowed in exasperation.

"I see," a sigh left her lips right after those two words. She turned her back on the gathered Order Agents and started walking towards the city gate, "Thank you for wasting my time. May you have a safe trip back to wherever it is you came from."

Felix placed a hand over his mouth to stop himself from bursting out laughing.

Spencer stared after the Huntress with his mouth hanging open.

The two Inquisitors were ready to spur their horses after the Huntress.

But Valarie was the first to act on her impulses.

"You DARE turn your back on a Chosen Of God! You will PAY for your insolence!" her blade was back in her hands as she charged towards the Huntress. She was deaf to Spencer's call to stop as her anger took over. She could see nothing save the black clothed woman's back as she jumped into the air with her sword raised high above her head.

She swung her sword as she fell...right into the Huntress' oncoming fist.

* * *

Spencer thought he had prepared for this.

When the Order had come to Valarie and him with the mission, he immediately went to work.

He went to the item shop and bought a good amount of health, antidote, and mana potions.

He went to the blacksmith and had Valarie's sword put to the grindstone and polished.

He went to his former Master for a short tutoring session and a reminder of the basics of magic.

He learned the names of the Inquisitors that would be joining them, Hector and Mars.

He brought enough gold to pay for their trip to and from their destination.

He bought enough food to feed them for a week if it came to it

He wasted no expense preparing for every possible outcome of this mission.

Yet the one thing he couldn't prepare for, the one variable that he couldn't account for no matter how much he tried, was how Valarie would react when they got to their destination. He couldn't control her haughty and confident personality. He couldn't control her fanatical dedication to the Order.

And he certainly couldn't control her fall as the stranger's blow launched her backward.

"Wha...what?" Spencer's voice barely rose above a whisper as his friend hit the ground with a thud. His head shot from Valarie as she laid on the earth in shock, to the stranger as she rolled her shoulder with an audible cracking of bone. Valarie's greatsword had fallen from her grasp and laid on the ground by the stranger's feet.

His stunned silence extended until his friend managed to get to her knees. He cleared his head with a shake before dismounting his horse. Gripping his staff in both hands he ran to his friend as she caught her breath, "Valarie! Are you ok?!"

The Heroine pushed herself to her feet, wide eyes looking down at her stomach. She turned to Spencer, his soft cheeks wrinkled in worry over her condition. Her mouth moved but no words came out as her brain tried to recall what happened. Then her blue eyes turned to the stranger and everything came rushing back.

Her hands tightened into fists as her anger returned then intensified as the heretic knelt next to her blade. Placing a hand on its hilt she effortlessly lifted it, moving it back and forth in her grip.

"Fine craftsmanship," the cur's examination of her Holy Blade made her body shake with righteous anger, "evenly weighted, well sharpened, and I believe these markings are runes of some kind?"

The stranger nodded before giving the sword a few test swings with one hand. The way she lazily wielded the weapon made Spencer's jaw open wider in awe, while Valarie teeth ground against each other in anger, "Get back, Spencer."

"What? But you're injured!" Spencer placed a worried hand on her shoulder, "You need to rest!"

"It's nothing," she shook his hand off, stomping her way to the black clothed woman. A red glow expanded around her body. It started at her palms and the balls of her feet, crawled its way up her arms and legs, and stopped around her thighs and shoulders.

Spencer's hands gripped his staff as his eyes moved from his rage filled friend to the object of her ire. The stranger, looking less worried and more amused, planted the sword in the ground. She took no stance whatsoever, which only inflamed Valarie's passionate anger.

"You cur," Valarie's hair whipped behind her as she got closer to her opponent, "You struck a Hero of the Order. A Chosen of God herself. You placed your unworthy hands on a holy sword blessed by her angels. It is clear you must be taught your own place in this world before you are to answer for your crimes."

She stopped halfway to the heretic and bent her knees while pushing her right leg back. Her boot dug into the ground beneath while her face remained focused on her target, "I shall be the one to educate you. And by the end of this day, you will be begging for God's forgiveness!"

Valarie shot forward, fist aimed at the heretic's face. Her opponent ducked the blow while sending a white gloved fist towards her temple. Her Mana shrouded legs and arms lessened the feeling of whiplash, as she planted her feet into the ground to both stop her movement and slide her head to the right to dodge the blow. She kicked out with her right leg, which was stopped by the heretic grabbing it between her arm and body. With a small leap she sent her left leg towards the enemy's head, rolling with the fall as the opponent let her right leg go to block the attack.

The Heroine hit the ground on her hands and sent out a sweeping kick that her foe jumped back to dodge. She pushed herself to her feet, a smile creeping over her face as the heretic rubbed the side of her head. It was replaced by a frown when the heretic charged at her. The kick she sent when her opponent got in range was dodged with a forward dash. She moved her arms to block a blow to the chest only to get a knee to the stomach. A retaliatory right hook was blocked and countered with a punch to her now open chest and an uppercut to the jaw. A stumble leads into an uncertain right hook that manages to drive her opponent back.

She regained her footing, ignored the blood dripping from her nose, and dashed in with a two feints to the left and right before following up with a kick that managed to connect with the heretic's stomach. Her opponent passed by her blade as she skid backward. Valarie rushed forward and grabbed the two handed blade's familiar pommel. Her attempt to yank it from the dirt below was thwarted by an oncoming kick from the heretic. She brought her arm up to block but was still sent flying away from her weapon. Her Mana kept her steady as she scowled in anger at her enemy, before charging forward to continue the fight.

"You are certainly skilled," the heretic managed to say while blocking a knee to the gut and dodging a headbutt, "And your use of Mana to support your body is an interesting method of attack. However, you are still lacking in terms of experience and common sense."

"You dare mock me, heretic?!" Valarie shouted as she ducked under a high kick and jumped the following sweep, "If you have time to speak, then you have time to fight!"

"You said you planned to 'teach me my place', correct?" the heretic ignored Valarie's reply, "Then, allow me to reciprocate. The first thing that requires adjustment is your attire."

Valarie, rage building at the way the heretic spoke as they fought, sent a high heal kick careening towards her opponent's head...which was swiftly caught by a white gloved hand.

There was a short pause before the heretic lifted the firmly gripped ankle until the Heroine's skirt flipped up. Valarie's expression changed from red with anger, to crimson with embarrassment as her pink, stripped underwear were revealed for all to see. Felix burst into laughter at the sight, following it up with a high pitched whistle at the reveal. Spencer had his eyes covered, his face the same shade of crimson as Valarie's, while he babbled something about not seeing anything. Only the two inquisitors seemed calm at the flash of a Hero's undergarments.

"N-n-NOOO!" Valarie's girlish shriek was followed by her shoving her hands onto the front and back hems of her skirt...which left her face completely unguarded. The stranger pulled the Heroine forward and gave her a hard straight across her jaw.

"This outcome is the tamest in terms of what can happen when you wear a short skirt into combat," she let the Hero's ankle go, her free hand shooting to the young woman's hair. She grabbed a clump of the blonde locks hard enough to make the Hero scream in pain. She lifted the girl up while pulling a fist back, "Then there is your hair. It can easily be used to do this."

Four hard punches followed. One to the gut that drove the air from her lungs. Another to her left kidney that made her teeth grit. A third to the solar plexus, drawing bile up into her throat. And the last to the center of her face just as the heretic released the grip on her hair. She heard something on her face crack as the fist impacted her face and she fell to the earth.

Valarie coughed up globs of blood as she pushed herself up by her elbows. She couldn't understand what was happening. Her Mana was meant to lessen the pain of any blows to her body. How did those attacks have so much force behind them? She grit her teeth while rising to her feet, turning to face her opponent. The Mana shrouding her body seemed to flicker in the light as she placed a hand on her broken nose. With a muffled shout she forced the bone back into place, "Do not lecture me! This battle is far from over, and your cockiness will be your downfall!"

"I highly doubt that," the heretic said as she wiped any blood from her gloves, "However, you are correct in that this fight has just begun. And there are far more lessons for you to learn before it is over."

Valarie spat a glob of blood and phlegm into the grass in response. She got into a fighting stance, ready to continue the battle, until a small, blue robed form came darting between her and the heretic.

"That is enough!" Spencer shouted as he stood facing Valarie, arms held out to his sides. His flat black eyes stared down her piercing blue ones as he yelled out, "Val! You're injured and your Mana is running low. If you keep fighting you'll collapse long before she does!"

Valarie ignored Spencer's words, moving to step past the shorter boy, "Move aside, Spencer."

"I won't!" the outburst gave Valarie pause. Her eyes went wide in shock at her long time friend's sudden assertiveness as he moved to block her path, "You're being unreasonable! Don't let your emotions rule your decisions. We all need to take a step back, start over, and try to solve this rationally."

"Spencer, she is criminal," Valarie pointed over the boys shoulder accusingly, "A heretic. She's confessed to the crimes herself."

"Even so, we are not here to judge her for it. We were only sent to investigate. No more. No less. It's the Inquisitor's job to decide whether we take her in or not."

Spencer let his arms drop along with the tension in Valarie's body. He pushed forward to not lose this chance, "We don't even know the full story yet, Val. The fact that she decided to come out here and turn herself in is extremely admirable. She at least deserves the chance to speak for herself. If we resort to violence, we are spitting on the courage this woman has shown here today. Please, Val."

Valarie's eyes shifted to the heretic behind him, over to the Inquisitors who had yet to move, and then back to Spencer. She felt her heartbeat slow as the adrenaline pumping through her body began to waver. The layer of Mana across her skin flickered then disappeared entirely as she let out a deep sigh. She closed her eyes to regain her composure while shaking her head, "Fine. I will stand down...for now."

Spencer let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as Valarie walked away. His arms fell to his sides, feeling like lead as the tension left his body.

"Impressive," from behind him came a voice that sounded much older and wiser than he was, "Being able to calm someone like that is no easy feat."

"Oh, well, thank you," Spencer suddenly felt bashful at the praise. He gripped his staff with both hands before turning to look the owner of the voice in the face, "To be honest, I didn't think that it...would've...worked..."

Spencer felt his words fail him as he laid his eyes upon the woman Valarie had been fighting. He hadn't been able to get a good look at her during the battle, so he was unable to tell what her Mana looked like. He wouldn't admit it, but the person they were sent to find had piqued his curiosity. Even the more senior Heroes would have trouble taking on an entire werewolf pack. Let alone come out of the fight complete unmonsterized. To do that, someone's Mana would either have to be incredible strong, or had a high enough resistance to avoid being transformed.

But as he gazed upon the absolute black hole of Mana that stood in front of him, he realized the truth.

The emotions that welled up inside him at the vision were enough to make a grown man faint.

And Spencer was far from a grown man.

His consciousness was gone long before he started falling towards the ground.

* * *

The Huntress had three responses to the young boy fainting the moment he met her eyes.

The first was, "I should've known this would happen."

The second was, "Of course this would happen the moment everything calmed down."

And the third was, "I need to help him!"

She chose to act on the last one.

She dashed forward, slipping her arms under the young man's back as he fell. He was surprisingly light as he fell into her arms with nary a sound. She eyed the soft skin on his face before looking up at the four pairs of footsteps headed towards her. The first to reach her was Valarie, anger and worry written plain as day on her face. She had recovered her blade and wasted no time grabbing its pommel as she approached the Huntress, "Cur! What have you done to Spencer!?"

The two Inquisitors had dismounted and were making their way over to them. The Huntress' eyes narrowed in suspicion before she flatly answered the Hero, "Made him faint, But know that it was in no way intentional."

"I don't know, lass," the Guard Captain said while staring at the unconscious Spencer, "I know of a few ways to make someone accidentally fall out, but I didn't see you do any of 'em. Care to elaborate?"

The Inquisitors walked over to the growing group, stopping at Valarie's left to complete the half circle gathered around the Huntress. Her eyes roamed the faces of those around her, starting at Felix, ending at one the Inquisitors, before looping back to Felix. All of them had their questioning eyes and expressions firmly locked on her.

Her eyes turned to the boy in her arms. He couldn't have been more than sixteen at best. Though he hadn't gotten involved until the fight was well underway, he had made a fiery tempered, anger filled Heroine back down with his words alone. Not to mention how he had stood up for her, a total stranger that he knew was a confessed criminal, while his comrades had either condemned her to death or did nothing at all. He was a brave, selfless little boy, the exact opposite of her image of the Order.

And that was enough to convince her to give them...no.

To give him a chance.

"Inquisitors," she turned her eyes to the two black cloaked agents, "If you wish to know why this boy fainted when he saw me, then answer this: What is the true reason behind you're coming here?"

The Inquisitors were silent for a few minutes as everyone's attention turned to them. Valarie soon scoffed, "You forget your place, heretic. You're speaking to members of the Order's most trusted. What makes you believe they will-"

"We came for you," came the chilling, female voice from the leftmost Inquisitor. When Valarie made to interrupt, a hand from the one right next to her fell on her shoulder. She stiffened for a moment before turning her head to the ground with a scowl.

The female Inquisitor continued, "The Order is interested in inducting you into our cause. A great boon to both yourself and our superiors."

"You would gain a great deal of resources and influence. Not to mention a home far from the frontier unlike this one," this voice, rough and male, came from the Inquisitor who stood right next to Valarie. He seemed unfazed by the death glare Felix shout his way.

The Huntress nodded at the two's confession while keeping her expression neutral, "I see. Was my battle with Valarie a test of my abilities?"

"No," the male Inquisitor shook his head, "While it was greatly informative to watch you battle Ms. Holden, we have a...different test in mind for you. If you were to come with us."

"Not only will you be acquitted of your crimes, but you'll be paid handsomely for helping the War Effort. Now, tell us why Spencer has fainted. What is it about you that made this happen?" the female Inquisitor could barely contain the obvious excitement in her voice.

The Huntress narrowed her eyes at the two Order Agents. The sun had reached its zenith by the time she finally said, "It's because of what he saw within me. That I have no Mana."


	22. Training Under The Moonlight

"Horace, does Ms. Cynthia hate us?"

Horace stopped the ax mid-swing right above the half-cut log. He turned to address his sister, sweat making running down his head, "What?"

Gloria kicked at the ground while fiddling with her long hair. Her eyes were pointed towards the earth, but her lip quivered nervously as she waited for his answer. Horace looked at the half-cut log, then the pile of untouched ones littering the ground to his right. With a sigh, he dropped the ax before answering, "No, of course not."

"You sure?" his sister's eyes remained on the ground as he walked to her side.

"Yeah," Horace rubbed his arms to drive the pain away, "I mean, she never said she did. Why are you asking anyway?"

"Because she's left us. Again. With strangers. Again."

"Well, yeah."

"Why does she keep doing that? Does she not want us?"

"That's not it, Gloria."

"Then what is it? Did we do something bad?"

Horace thought he heard the sound of a sniffle and dashed to his sister's side. He immediately hugged her while shaking his head, "No, no, no, that's not it at all. It's just...well...Ms. Cynthia is really busy..."

The boy's eyes scan the area behind his sister, jumping around in a panic as he searches for something to say. His eyes moved from the sky to the earth and stopped on the rectangular backside of the manor that had become her home. The orange light from the setting sun danced like fire along the stone exterior. Their movements were strangely hypnotic and made the house look even more inviting in comparison to cutting wood out here.

Words came to him as his eyes widened in revelation, "She's...busy fighting bad people."

His sister pulled back a bit to look him in the eyes, her head tilted in confusion, "Bad people?"

"Like the ones she saved us from," Horace kept going with a nervous smile on his face, "you remember when she came back for us after she bought us? And what about when she came upstairs last night? You remember the...the noise, right?"

Gloria shook a bit, slowly nodding as echoes of the sounds from the night before rung in her ears.

"That's what she's out doing! Fighting bad people who want to hurt us and others. She doesn't hate us, she's just busy making sure we're safe. So, there's no need to cry. Everything will be. I promise."

His sister doesn't respond at first. Then she leans forward and rests her head on his shoulder, gripping his shirt with both hands. A short sigh escaped her as in a small voice she said, "Ok."

She could tell he was just trying to make her feel better. He knew she could. But he didn't know what else to say. He wanted to believe that Ms. Cynthia loved them. That her taking them in was a random act of kindness. She had done so many things for them since she found them in the Slums. Given them a home, given them clean clothes, washed them and made sure they were safe.

But despite all that, their doubts wouldn't abate. Because they had been lied to before.

And Horace wouldn't put Gloria through it again.

He hugged his sister as tight as he could, while his eyes focused on the back of their new home. Jet came around the left corner of the house and called for them. Told Gloria to go inside, watching her run back the entire way. When she was far enough, he moved back to the stump, picked up the ax, and started cutting into the log again.

When he finally split the first one in half, he immediately moved to the next, even as Jet started calling his name again.

* * *

Spencer woke to the rough, familiar feeling of his back on the ground. He groaned as his mind caught up with his body as his nerves tried to get his limbs moving again. The sound of crackling and popping made him toss and turn uncomfortably, the smell of burning wood filling his nose.

"Oh, you're waking up," Spencer jumped from his position, eyes going wide as they searched for the owner of the unfamiliar voice. He felt his chest tighten in fear as he beheld the black-clad figure sitting with their back against a tree. His hands frantically searched for and found his staff next to the cot he was on. He shot to his feet...then stopped as the figure leaned closer to the fire.

He felt the tension in his body lower as the stranger's familiar masked face was lit by the fire's blaze. Her hat was gone, letting the fire light up the short crimson hair that framed her hard face. Her black eyes seemed to judge his every movement as she stared up at him, "Calm down, Spencer. Everything is fine."

The young man's eyes darted across the ground, his nervousness fading with each passing second. The four cots set up around a roaring fire pit, the pale light of the moon brightening their surroundings, the sound of horses snoring nearby, and the stranger's calm yet firm voice slowly soothed his mind. He sat down on his cot while trying to keep his eyes away from the stranger, "Um, uh, ok, then. What happened?"

"You passed out and we gathered your body," the stranger stood up as she explained and moved to a small brown pack to her right, "I shared my horse with you and we set up camp when it got dark out."

"Ah. That ex...wait...," Spencer's face got redder as what she said started to register, "W-w-we sh-sh-shared a h-horse?"

"Yes," the stranger took a water skin out of the bag before walking towards the young man, "You sat behind me while I led the horse."

"T-that-that means that-that...," the boy's face became redder than a beet. His imagination ran wild with thoughts of what had happened, leading him to cover his face with his cloak. He shouted out in a high pitched, squeaky voice, "I am so sorry! Please don't be mad at me! If I touched you anywhere inappropriate I-"

He heard her put something down at his side before she started walking back to her original spot. A peak from under his cloak revealed the waterskin she took out of the pack. Surprised, he stared at the stranger who was occupying herself by sharpening a wicked looking weapon. Some kind of macabre combination of a cleaver and a saw. It was horrific, yet somehow fascinating. He had neither seen nor heard of a weapon like it. Curiosity over how one would be possessed to make such a thing, let alone wield it in battle, overcame the uneasiness he felt looking at it.

He didn't notice how long he was staring until after the stranger said, "You were out for some time. You should drink to regain your strength."

Spencer shook his head in confusion, "Huh? Oh right, right! Hehe." He snatched up the waterskin, opened it, and chugged the water inside. The cool liquid going down his throat quenched a thirst he hadn't even noticed until that moment. A happy sigh left his mouth involuntarily when he finished. There was silence between the two of them save for the crackling of the fire pit. Then Spencer said, "So, um, what happened after I uh, passed out? And, how do you know my name? I don't think I got a chance to tell you when I...yeah."

"Hector, the male Inquisitor, told me when I asked," the stranger put her weapon down next to her to give the boy her full attention, "It was during our journey away from Pran. After settling up with the Guard Captain, Felix, Hector and Mars suggested I follow them to see about this 'test' of theirs."

She leaned her back against the tree while straightening out her legs, turning her gaze to the stars above, "They say if I do well they'll consider making me an official member of the Order."

"Really? That's great!" Spencer nodded with a bright smile, "I'd love to fight alongside you, um...I'm sorry, but I don't think I ever got your name."

"Call me Cynthia," she answered shortly, before turning her gaze back onto the young mage, "And allow me to apologize for causing your state, Spencer. I hope I didn't cause you too must distress."

"What are you...oh! Right, that...," Spencer's eyes looked towards the ground as the image of that thing he saw when he first glanced at Cynthia flashed across his eyes. That unending pitch blackness that coveted the Mana trying to make its way into the woman's body. How the lines of magic that flowed within all living things were sucked into that never-ending void. When he saw that...that absolute wrongness that went against everything he stood for as a mage...he just couldn't take it. Even now just looking at the woman gave the boy a headache.

His teeth grit together while his hands pulled at the legs of his trousers. Shame and frustration welled up inside of him at the thought of his reaction. Unintentionally, magic began to gather at the tips of his fingers. It built until it shot out into the fire pit, making the fire roar as it climbed higher. He gasped in surprise while backing away from the increased heat. He laughed it off when he spotted Cynthia watching him with worry. He quickly thought of a way to change the subject, "So, do you know how they're going to test you? Or even what the test is?"

Cynthia shook her head, "No, unfortunately. All I know is that we're going to a city named Vinvers. It's deeper in Order Territory than Pran, and requested assistance with some matter important to the Order."

"Vinvers?" Spencer placed a hand on his chin, "That's strange. Why would they want us to go to a neutral town?"

"Neutral town?" Cynthia's voice carried clear interest in it.

Spencer looked at her with surprise, "They're places that have officially refused to be apart of the war. They side with neither the Mamono nor the Order. Instead, they act as Safe Havens where Monsters and Humans can live together without conflict. Supposedly, anyway. Surprised you haven't heard of them, as they're talked about a lot. I've only heard stories about them. Haven't actually been to one myself."

"I see," Cynthia stared into the fire with squinted eyes, "But how are they able to do that if they're located in Order Territory?"

Spencer shrugged, "I don't know. There are plenty of cities that have done the same, but the Order hasn't taken any serious action against them. Their numbers seemed to increase after what happened to Lescatie. They still don't outnumber the cities officially under the Order, but it's a bit worrying."

Cynthia tilted her head, "Why do you say that, Spencer?"

"W-well, I mean, it's just impossible, right?" hesitation laced his voice as he searched for the right words, "Humans and Mamono living together just can't happen. Not when the Mamono are hellbent on raping and corrupting every human they can get their hands on. It just won't work."

"And, have you ever tried speaking to-"

"Once," the young man blurted out without looking at Cynthia, "And it ended badly."

Cynthia didn't press the boy on details. They both sat in silence, watching the flames dance in the fire pit while the young mage took swigs from the water-skin. Eventually, Cynthia broke the silence with a question, "So, what's your relationship with Ms. Holden?"

Spencer choked and spat up the water in his throat, doing his best to not splash any on the fire. Cynthia rushed over and started patting the shorter boy on the back as he cleared his lungs. He took in three deep breaths, before looking up at the black-clothed woman with another blush coming over his face, "W-w-why are you asking that?!"

"I apologize," Cynthia's eyes softened as she helped the boy to his feet, "But I am genuinely curious. Not many would willingly put themselves in harm's way to stop a battle. Yet you stepped between the two of us as we prepared to re-engage each other. You wouldn't have done that unless you seriously cared for your friend."

"Well...you're not wrong," he uses his staff to push himself up, "But, still, you could've phrased it better."

Cynthia nodded before gesturing for the boy to elaborate. He bit his tongue and kept his eyes off the woman's body, "It's, well, we've been together ever since I can remember. We played in our families' estates together, became Heroes together, even been on five missions together. She can be a bit...aggressive and jump to conclusions, but she does it out of a genuine want to do good. Braver than most, stronger than most, and with a passion for defending the innocent, she's everything a Hero should be."

"But more than that, she's been with me from the beginning. Everyone said I couldn't make it as a Hero. Even my parents. But not her. She encouraged me, push me to be better, even introduced me to my Master. She's done so much for me. So, yeah. I guess I am her friend," his voice lowered to a whisper, "But I'd liked to be more than that."

Cynthia spoke faster than he could come up with an excuse, "You have feelings for her?"

Spencer felt his heart skip a beat as he realized she heard what he had said. He turned his back on Cynthia while shouting, "I-I didn't say that!" His mind drew up the numerous phrases he knew people would say if they were to find out.

'You're both Heroes! You can't think of her that way!'

'She's outta your league, give up.'

'She doesn't even know you exist.'

"Have you told her?"

'I bet you just want to fu-'

His mind stopped as it focused on the fourth sentence. He turned his head slightly and spoke in a tiny, nervous voice, "W-what...was...that?"

"I asked if you had told her," Cynthia replied while shrugging her shoulders, "It's a simple yes or no question."

"...Oh," Spencer felt a large mixture of emotions. Confusion at how Cynthia just accepted what he had said with no issue raised. Surprise that she would ask something so sensible. And the most important of the three, relief that she hadn't ridiculed him.

He took a moment to clear his throat before turning to look Cynthia head-on. He focused his gaze on her eyes to mitigate his headache, "Well, ah, um...not really."

"Why not?" the directness of her tone made Spencer jump a bit.

"B-b-because I...can't? Our families would never allow it, it's improper to think about other Heroes that way, I don't have nearly as many redeeming qualities about myself, and I doubt she'd say yes. It's a foolish...um, something wrong Cynthia?"

Cynthia had her head pointed towards the grass below. A gust of wind made her cape billow like wings behind her. Her shadow seemed to lengthen across the campsite as the fire started to die down.

Spencer gulped while gripping his staff tight in one hand. He took a step forward just as Cynthia turned and started walking to the east of the camp, "Follow me, Spencer."

Her voice was neither a whisper nor a shout, but the authority behind it made him follow after her. He gulped as they got further away from the fire until the darkness swallowed them. He mumbled a spell that made his staff emit a pale blue light. It illuminated the area around him, helped by a lantern Cynthia had attached to her hip. He stared at it in confusion. When had she brought that out? And where was she taking them?

Just when Spencer was getting nervous, Cynthia stopped and said, "This is far enough. Now we can begin."

"Begin what? Why are we out here?" Cynthia didn't reply to the boy's questions, which made him ask himself why he followed her out here.

"You'll see soon enough. Stay here, please," Cynthia stepped away from the boy, her lantern light illuminating the area around her feet as she walked forward. She stopped when she was fifteen steps away from Spencer. The look in her eyes when she turned around made a shiver run up his spine. An extreme sense of unease came over him, along with the knowledge that the two of them were alone.

In the middle of a dark forest.

While everyone else was busy with a different task.

"Tell me, Spencer. In battle, what do we always fight against?" her voice felt cold enough to freeze the air around them.

"Um...uh...enemies?" he ventured.

"Partly correct, so allow me to rephrase. What are we constantly struggling against our enemies to achieve?"

"Urgh, to survive?"

"Correct. That is what a battle truly is about. Survival," she raised her right hand and...when had she picked up that saw-cleaver weapon? Spencer hadn't seen her touch it, yet there was in in her hand, and looking extra sharp in the moonlight.

"Now tell me, what do we struggle to survive against? What is the ultimate goal of living to see the next day?"

"To...live? To not die?"

"Precisely. We fight and struggle against our enemies so that we may avoid Death. Our opponents struggle to survive against us so that they may avoid Death. Death is the ultimate enemy. Everyone you have ever fought or will fight will do so to avoid that enemy. This is an instinctual part of all living things; The Fear of Death. All have it. Some have let it rule them. They let it consume their lives and drive them to search for ways to avoid it. And, in the end, they never truly can."

She took a step to her right and kept going. Spencer kept her in the center of his vision the entire time. His hands felt clammy as he watched her move without making a sound. She continued, "But others have done the opposite. They have found a way to reject this fear. Though it still exists within them, they do not let it control their actions. They no longer fear Death. Do you know what this makes them, Spencer?"

"Dangerous," it wasn't a question this time. He knew the answer.

"Exactly," she completed a full circle around the young mage and stopped. Wind bent the grass below and rustled the leaves above, "They become extremely dangerous to any who attempt to face them in combat. And that's what I'm going to instill in you. On this night, I will help you overcome the fear of Death."

Spencer took a step back while letting out a nervous chuckle, "Hehe...uh...right. Hey, Cynthia? Joke's over. How about we head back to camp? Val's probably back by now."

Spencer had managed to take three steps back from his original position. There were eighteen steps between the two at that point. The average person would've needed at least five seconds to make up that gap. Within that time Spencer could've hit them with a spell or put up a defensive shield to protect himself.

Cynthia, somehow, closed the distance in two seconds.

Spencer looked up at the cleaver as it came down, aiming for his head, and knew it was his end. His body seized up, muscles going rigid, and stopping any movement he could make. His legs wouldn't move him back no matter how much he plead for them to do something. The staff in his right hand felt heavier than Valarie's sword. Even if he could raise it up, what would it do? It's wood against serrated metal!

There was nothing he could do.

He would die here. Alone. In the middle of a random forest. No one to mourn him.

Time slowed down. The world around him went black. The only thing he could see was the oncoming blade of the weapon that would be his doom.

Why had he come out here?! Why did he trust a complete stranger like that?! Val was right! If only he had listened to...

...Valarie.

Her face flashed through his mind. Her soft, slightly pudgy face with that small slant in her nose. How her cheeks would puff out whenever she was flustered or angry. The way her muscles tensed when her blade struck true. The way her hair flowed in the breeze as she rode by on a horse. He saw it all.

But the primary thing he focused on was her smile.

The beautiful smile that would come over her face whenever she spoke to people about her work as a Hero. Or when she would rescue someone from the clutches of a Mamono. That small, yet wonderful smile...

...would disappear if he died here.

Suddenly everything came back.

The rustling of the leaves.

The bending grass beneath his feet.

And the oncoming blade about to end his life.

He felt his body explode into action. With every fiber of his being, he threw himself to his left. The weapon barely missed him, shredding the left side of his robes to pieces as he fell to the ground.

A cloud of dust exploded from where the weapon hit the earth. Spencer covered his head as the debris rained down on him. He quickly stood up and pointed his staff at Cynthia. Rage covered his face as he shouted at her, "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?"

"Training," the cold edge to her voice was gone, replaced with one filled with innocence, "to help you overcome the fear of Death. And it succeeded."

"Oh, really?!" Spencer stomped over to Cynthia until he had to look up at her to look her in the eyes, "Well then I guess I'll just forget about the part where you TRIED TO FUCKING KILL ME!"

He shoved Cynthia as hard as he could, but couldn't make her budge an inch, "Do you expect me to THANK YOU FOR THAT?! You can't teach people how to not be afraid of Death! It's impossible to teach that to anyone!"

"Then explain how you're able to not only yell at me but attempt to knock me over, when not a minute ago you were afraid to look me in eye?"

Spencer prepared to argue...then found it falling flat before he even made it. His gaze fell from her masked face to his own two hands. He flexed them both while thinking back to how he tried to knock Cynthia over. He had to admit, while not completely gone, his fear wasn't as bad before. Whenever he thought of something that scared him, his mind would recall this experience and the fear would decrease. He hadn't totally changed...but he could tell something was different.

"I...guess you're right," he shook his head before continuing, "But, that still doesn't excuse the fact that you almost killed me! Why didn't you warn me, or give me a chance to prepare myself? For that matter, why did you do this in the first place?"

Cynthia kept her eyes locked on Spencer's, but did bow her head in apology, "I understand your concern. However, if this training were to work, I couldn't reveal what it entailed. Otherwise, you wouldn't truly get the full effect. You wouldn't overcome the fear of Death. Merely build barriers to keep Death at bay for a bit longer. As for why I did it..."

A gloved hand fell onto Spencer's head. He tensed up, then relaxed at it gently moved back and forth through his black hair before lifting away. He looked up and swore he could see a smile through Cynthia's bandana, "Because you are at War, young mage. And if you are to win a war, you can't let fear stop you. Not only from winning, but from protecting those you care for and finding a reason to win in the first place. If you can overcome the fear of Death, then you can overcome all your fears. Including the one you harbor deep in your heart."

Spencer felt his cheeks heat up as he understood what the older woman was saying. He turned his back to her and started towards camp, "Well, uh, I, uh...thanks, I guess. I'm...still not going to tell Val how I feel...but, I see your point. And maybe...maybe I should stop stalling on that front huh?"

"Take at long as you need," Cynthia nodded, "And if you ever need more training, I'd be glad to be your second Master."

"Right. At least you and her will have the almost killing me part in common," Spencer laughs while Cynthia giggles. He starts heading back to the camp, hearing Cynthia follow him a few moments later.

He thought back to the smile he thought he saw as he walked, and couldn't help but feel...strange. It wasn't a bad strange. But it was weird.

For some reason, the smile reminded him of a mother. Not his mother...just a mother.

The confusion lasted for a moment. Then he waved it off as a trick of the eye.

* * *

"We're doing what?" the Huntress asked Hector from atop her horse as Mars led Valarie and Spencer into the small village in front of them. Her steed whinnied a bit but showed no signs of the discomfort that had gripped it when she first mounted up. The beast outright refused to allow the Huntress on its back and had to be held in place by Valarie before it let her ride. Now it was obedient, but she could still feel the rumble of unease beneath its skin.

"Collecting gifts from this small village's populace," Hector explained, revealing his shaved head by pulling back his hood, "Our funds are low and it will be another day before we reach Vinvers. We need to obtain gold, so that we can pay for a stay at the inn when we get there."

"But why are we collecting it from a village like this?" the Huntress waved a hand out at the ten squat buildings that made up the "village". Seven of them were homes, one was obviously the Village Head's home, one was a market, and the last was still being built. The people wore plain clothes and walked barefoot on a rough dirt road as the two Heroes approached the village center.

"All must give penance to the Order. It is in our teachings to be generous to others, and respectful of those above you."

"Even if you're so poor that you can't even afford to wrap your feet? Or are so hungry that your ribs are showing?"

Hector dismounts his horse, "It is the way of the Order. And how it has always been. Come with me, please."

The Huntress' eyes narrowed as she dismounted. She followed the bald, light-skinned man towards the market building as Mars started yelling to the gathered village people. The building had two counters with fresh-looking fruits and vegetables gathered upon it. The owner walked out from under the cover of his building, revealing a slightly hunched man with wild hair and calloused hands. His smile had black spots where his teeth should be, but he spoke with jubilation at their approach, "Ah! Servants of the Order! What might this humble market owner do for you today?"

Hector stepped up and spoke with no kindness in his voice, "My comrades and I are traveling. We require three days' worth of supplies to make the journey. I trust you can accomplish this in record time."

Hector leaned his imposing frame and shadow over the market owner. Sweat tumbled down the man's face, but though his smile wavered it never sank. He gave a vigorous nod before jumping into action, "R-right away, my Lord! I'll have it done before you know it."

"Good," Hector straightened up, then turned around...right into the piercing eyes of the Huntress.

She saw his hand slide towards something hidden in his robes but didn't make any moves. She simply stared the Inquisitor down until she said, "Why don't you go back to our horses? I'll be the one to bring the supplies."

Hector was the first to break eye contact. He walked past the Huntress while mumbling, "Very well," under his breath.

The Huntress watched him go with a frown on her face. Her gaze moved to the two Heroes, and the frown got deeper. She tightened a fist as she watched Mars gather whatever gold coins the people could give into a small bag she held out. Before she could move to intervene, the market owner called out, "I've done it, my Lord!"

She turned around and fast-walked to the man. She stopped a few feet away, grabbed the saddlebags from his hands, and then started rummaging through her inner coat pocket, "What is your name, sir?"

"Domonous, my Lady," he shook his head, "I'm honored you'd ask, but I'm not-"

"Take this," she shoved a bag of coins into his hands. Domonous looked at her questioningly before opening the bag. His mouth went agape at the mound of gold coins inside.

"There should be one thousand coins in there. Promise me you'll distribute it to the rest of the village. Swear by the Gods on this," she looked the man in the eye, searching his for any hint of malice or possibility of lying.

He was silent for a long time. Then he swallowed and slowly nodded his head, "Alright. I...I swear."

The Huntress let out a relieved sigh, "Ah, thank you. Now come with me. I'm going to teach you the best way to give those coins out..."


	23. Entering Vinvers

"Ok...Ok...I've managed to make it to the church. That...tentacle faced...creature with an ax is still outside, but it doesn't seem like it wants to chase me in here. I am safe for now. Calm down. Calm down."

...

"I don't...don't know how long I've been here. None of the clocks in the buildings work. I haven't found anyone who doesn't want to take my head off. My sword's been broken more times than I care to admit. I've died more times than I want to count. One of my arms is missing. And I'm no closer to finding a way out of here."

...

"I just need to keep moving. Don't think about all the times I've died. Just need to keep going forward. I'll find the exit eventually. Then I can meet with Akuri-san and...

...

"Why...why do I know that name? I feel like...like I should know who it is...but...I can't recall. Who...who is Akuri-san?"

"...And since when did I have breasts?"

* * *

"We've arrived."

The Huntress pulled her steed to a stop as she gazed upon the high stone walls of Vinvers. Her first impression was that this place truly deserved the title of "city". The front gates were wide open and bustling with activity. Caravans pulled by snorting oxen were stopped at the entrance before being guided passed the six armored guards. People would walk passed their group of five, usually stopping to bow or offer a prayer to the Order Agents, before being halted by the guards who would inspect whatever they brought with them. Three of the guards wore green gambesons with pointed helmets and were armed with halberds, while the other three had leather jerkins with swords and shields strapped to their sides and backs. They stopped and moved people through with practiced ease never wavering once in their task.

But what caught the Huntress' eye was the fact that a good portion of the individuals moving in and out of the city were Mamono. A caravan being led by a woman with a squirrel's tail, harpies walking arm in arm with human men, a family traveling with a small bipedal dog-like creature, and even an odd-looking mage who walked with a floating black and white cat at this side. She found herself staring at the crowd despite her best efforts. The sheer contrast of everything she had been led to believe about Mamono fascinating her to the point where she didn't even notice how the monsters reacted to her presence. They either gave her a wide berth or took one look at her before quickly turning their heads away.

Hector watched a harpy hide behind the man she was with, turning back to look at the Huntress with a raised eye, "The Mamono seem to be frightened of you."

"An effect of my lack of Mana," the Huntress moved her horse to stand beside Hector's, "As I said, any who can sense or see Mana will feel discomfort when I am near. The more adept or powerful they are, the worse the effect seems to become."

Mars shook her head as her horse came up to the Huntress' left, "Forgive me if I still do not believe your claims. If you were truly without Mana, you would be dead. There is not a single living thing in this world that does not have Mana running through their body."

"Then explain what happened to me," Spencer called from behind the three, "I'm the only mage in our group and the moment I laid eyes on Cynthia, I passed out. Even now I can hardly look at her without getting a headache...no offense, Cynthia."

The Huntress waved the boy's words off, while Mars replied, "Pure coincidence. Or perhaps a result of your own inexperience?"

"Yeah someone who's managed to complete five missions for the Order is inexperienced. Whatever you say," Mars shot Spencer a glare that made the young boy wince, but he was saved when Valarie maneuvered her horse between the two. She turned on Spencer and shot him a confusing look to which he mumbled an apology.

"So, what will we be doing when we get inside?" the Huntress asked the Inquisitors as the five approached the open gate. A guard made his way to them and asked for them to submit themselves to a search. Hector and Mars dismounted, walked up to the guard, and began to speak in hushed tones with Hector pulling a scroll from inside his robes. The guard opened the scroll and scrutinized it for two minutes. Then he handed it back with a nod and shouted for their group to be let through.

Hector answered the Huntress as they made their way into the town proper, "Mars and I shall go to the Order Base here. They will be informed of your arrival and we shall prepare to administer your test."

"It will take us about two days to get everything ready," Mars reached into her own robes and tossed three bags of coins to the Huntress, Spencer, and Valarie, "There's one hundred gold in each of those bags. The three of you are to use that time to prepare yourselves for when you are needed. The two Heroes may stay at our Base, but you, Cynthia, but procure your own place to rest."

"You are not yet a recognized member of the Order, and thus do not have access to our facilities. You understand?" Hector finished as a small, red-feathered girl ran up to his horse, trying to pull at his leg. The glare he gave her was so frightening that the child ran crying back to a harpy with the same color feathers.

The Huntress scowled at the man while hefting the bag of coins in her hands. She noticed Valarie frowning at her own bag and asked, "Is something wrong, Valarie?"

"Do not use my name without the proper title, cur!" the Hero said as she attached the bag to her skirt. Then she spoke to Inquisitor Mars, "This is the gold the villager donated to us, isn't it?"

"Does that matter?" was the curt reply.

"N-no," Valarie replied, but the Huntress saw her bite her lip as her hands tightened around her horse's reigns.

The Huntress stared at the coins in her palm, thinking back to the village they had "procured" supplies from. She silently hoped that the advice she gave to Domonous worked. Many a time she had to make three coins last as long as three hundred when she was a child. While her advice might not be perfect, or even applicable to their circumstances, he should still be able to keep the village alive with what she had given him if he followed her suggestions.

"I understand," the Huntress placed the bag inside her cloak alongside the one she had brought from home, "I shall do so now, lest I waste time that could better be spent getting my name cleared."

"Me and Val will go with you," Spencer said as he moved his horse to follow the Huntress. Valarie loudly questioned Spencer volunteering them, and the Inquisitor's subsequent approval of the idea. However, being completely outvoted and outranked, there was little she could do or say about it. With a scowl etched on her face the entire time, she helped Spencer lead the Huntress to the closest inn.

It was a tall, rectangular, three-story stone building. At the top, it had a wooden sign with a picture of a smiling woman carrying tankards of a foaming beverage in her arms. "The Unusual" had been carved below the picture.

The Huntress dismounted her horse and handed the reigns to Spencer, "Thank you both for accompanying me. I shall be fine from here. What shall the two of you do?"

"Obviously find the Order Base and-"

"Um, actually, Val," Spencer interrupted the woman while looking at the ground beneath him. He squirmed in his saddle for a bit, mouth opening and closing with words unsaid. Then he took a deep breath and looked at his friend in the eyes, "Would you come with me for a bit? There's something I want to show you."

Her expression shifted from confusion to curiosity as she looked her friend up and down, "Are you feeling alright, Spencer? Your behavior seems to have...changed ever since last night. You seem more...forward."

"Really? Is that bad?" hints of sadness entered his voice as his determined expression fell.

Valarie shook her head, "No, no, that's not...ok. What did you want to show me?"

Spencer's expression brightened instantly as he turned his horse away from the inn, "First, let's go drop off our horses at the stable. It's easier to get there on foot."

The Huntress watched the two as they galloped away with her arms crossed. She nodded at Spencer as the two of them got further away, pride at the young man swelling in her chest, a small smile on her lips.

Then it fell away as she steeled her gaze and turned to the door to the inn.

She had made it to a neutral city, and she had two days to look for answers to the lingering questions she had after her time with the Dhampir. The faster she got started, the more quickly she could decide what to do.

The inn's doors opened with nary a squeak keeping her entrance quiet. She walked right up to the open bar, pulling up a chair and sitting down. She waited a few seconds before turning around to examine the room. The patrons paid her no mind as she walked in, many of them too busy drinking or swapping tales with the others at their tables.

Three barmaids elegantly walked between the tables carrying drinks in their arms. Their white and green dresses were modest, completely covering everything from their waist to their ankles. However, their tops were made in such a way that it was easy to look down their shirts should they bend or lean over for any reason. Though this isn't what made the Huntress take note of the women.

It was the fact that only one of them was human. She was a young, raven-haired girl with a small beauty mark on her left cheek. A beaming smile was constantly on her face, her modest breasts hardly moving as she walked. The other two were had tails protruding from right above their hindquarters that were covered in green scales. The Huntress was reminded of lizards, especially when he glanced at their clawed feet and hands.

"Haven't seen you around before," the Huntress looked over her shoulder at who she assumed was the innkeeper. He was younger than she had anticipated with hardly any wrinkles on his pointed face. His dusty brown hair fell around his face to the point where his eyes were completely covered by his bangs. A comforting smile beamed on his face, "What brings you to this humble little place?"

The Huntress turned in her seat to look the man head-on, "Simply looking for a place to stay. How much would it cost to get a room for at least two days?"

"Thirty coins," the Huntress brought out that many coins and placed it on the counter. The innkeeper counted them up before moving them behind the bar, "Thanks. You want to see it now or later?"

"Later, please. I have some errands to take care of before I go."

"Then can I at least get you a drink?" the Huntress shook her head just as the human maid came over and asked the innkeeper for four more tankards of ale. He disappeared behind the bar for a bit, before coming out with four foaming glasses. The woman took the beverages and gave the man a kiss before turning back to the inn.

The doors to the inn opened and three of the guards from the gate walked over to the bar. They took seats to the right of the Huntress, their gambesons jingling they undid their helmets. The one right next to the Huntress was a male with a deep scar cut right around his jaw and a small amount of stubble on his chin. He sighed while leaning against the counter, "Hey, Howard, can you give me the strong stuff?"

"Sure. Tough day Mark?" the innkeeper, Howard, said as he started cleaning a tankard for the guard.

"Yeah, let's go with that," was Mark's answer. The other two kept their helmets on and started making small talk between them. They mostly spoke of the problems related to their jobs. People being uncooperative, getting yelled at by their superiors, and so on. The Huntress mostly tuned them out to contemplate what her next step would be.

Mark was on his third tankard when one of the other guards said, "Hey, Howard. I've been meaning to ask. Those lizard women are yours, right?"

The Huntress turned her attention to the men as the innkeeper shrugged, "Yeah, kind of. I beat Iri and Ris in a fight during my adventuring days, so they followed me here hoping to marry me."

"But you got with Greta before that," the second guard continued, "So, does that mean they're open?"

Howard chuckled while shaking his head, "Afraid not, Micheal. They're not trying to get me anymore, but they're not looking for new mates either."

"Aw, damn it," Micheal leaned back in his chair with a disappointed groan.

"The guy's had his eye on Ris for a while," the third guard explained, "Kept talking about how it was 'love at first sight'. Told him it couldn't work cause they wouldn't be here unless they were here for you, but he wouldn't listen."

"Why are you after one of them anyway?" Mark asked, half-empty tankard in one hand, speech beginning to slur, "What about Riza? I thought she joined up to be with you."

"Well, yeah," Micheal placed both hands on the bar counter and shrugged, "And I like her...but as a sister. That, and I"m...well I-"

"He wants a Mamono wife."

Micheal punched the third guard in the arm, "Felix! Cut it out!"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Felix said as he rubbed his arm, "Plenty of guys on the force have shacked up with Mamono. No one's gonna judge you for it. Heck, I'd bet money most of them think the same way. I know I do."

"Me too," Mark answered while finishing the tankard of ale, "I'd like to go home and have a smiling face waiting for me every day. Better than an empty house, that's for sure."

"Pardon me, gentlemen," the Huntress got out of her chair and moved it to sit between the three men. Felix scooted to his right to make room for the tall woman as she took up the spot between him and Micheal, "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, and I hoped you would answer a question of mine. If none of you mind."

The three guards held a silent conversation with their eyes before Mark answered the Huntress, his voice steady and suspicious, "Sure. Go right ahead, Ms...?"

"Call me Hunt," her answer sounded blunter than she meant, but she needed this question answered, "And, I was wondering, you all say that you want Mamono wives. Why? Why not look for a human wife like the innkeeper has?"

Micheal and Felix's helmets keep their expressions hidden, but Mark's clear surprise is evident. The three are silent for a few moments. Then they share a chuckle before Felix starts to answer, "Uh, no offense, Ms. Hunt, but isn't that kind of obvious? They're...better."

"But what makes them better?" her request for elaboration catches the three off guard. She is undeterred, "Especially if you consider what they do to the men they sleep with. Is joining with a Mamono truly worth the fact that you will be corrupted?"

"Look, lady, ask yourself. If you had to choose between two people to get married to, which would you pick? The one that will never leave you, stay with you until you die, love you for you and not ask you to change yourself, be there whenever you need emotional support, is willing and able to bear your children, will cook and clean your house while you're away, and have sex with you whenever you want, or the one to which many of those things are either conditional or completely off the table?" Mark shrugs before patting his armor down as the looks for something, "It's not exactly a hard choice."

"And not everybody gets corrupted," Micheal continues, "I know people who've been with their Mamono wives for months and they haven't turned. Sure they seem to spend a lot more time at home with their wives, but isn't that a good thing?"

"Right, Micheal. And besides, it's not like humans aren't marrying other humans. Just look at Howard! He could've had not one, but two lizard women for wives, but he chose Greta instead," Felix jerks a finger at the innkeeper who takes the coins Mark puts on the table.

The Huntress is silent for a moment. Her eyes remain focused on the bar counter. The tension between the four of them begins to climb, as the three guards share concerned looks. Micheal nearly jumps as the Huntress leaves her seat, "Thank you, gentlemen. Please, have a wonderful day."

She didn't bother to wait for their replies. She fast-walked out of the inn, dodging past the human barmaid. She made a tally in her mind as she stepped out of the inn and into the streets of Vinvers. She spent the rest of the day walking through the city, asking questions of everyone who would listen.

* * *

"And this your room. Again, I'm terribly sorry about the way Iri acted when she saw you. That's never happened with anyone else before..."

The Huntress waved the innkeeper's wife's concern off, "It is no trouble. Do give her my sincerest apologies if I caused her any discomfort."

Greta nodded to the Huntress before walking away, placing a key to the room in the Huntress' hand. The Huntress entered the small room with two beds and a single dresser in it and locked the door behind her. She waited until she could no longer hear the woman's footsteps. Then she moved away from the door and placed an ear to the right wall. Ten seconds passed before she did the same on the left wall. Both times she heard no sound coming from either.

She stepped back from the left wall...before punching it hard enough to leave a cavity in the stonework.

"Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!" she started pacing the room, hands flying to her head in frustration. She tossed her hat onto one of the beds while tearing her bandana off. Panting with anger and frustration she sat down on the bed to the left of the room, grabbed the pillow, and used it to muffle her scream.

By the time the sun had set, she had managed to question at least one hundred citizens of Vinvers. She questioned single human males, human/Mamono couples, and single human females. Her queries had to be tailored to fit her audience, but they all had the same core question behind them: Would you choose a Mamono over a human?

Of the one hundred she spoke two, seventy said yes or a variant of yes.

Meaning as it stood right now...

_All your paths lead to the same outcome._

The Huntress didn't flinch at the sound of the voice. She calmly placed the pillow across her knees, "You've been quiet for some time."

_Things are changing within you..._

"What was that?"

_I said I was merely observing your futile attempts to find a solution that saves everyone, waiting for the moment you realized the truth; That there is none._

"No," the Huntress' red hair shook with her head, "No, there must be something. There has to be a way to end this war without the extinction of an entire race."

The voice let out a deep, cruel laugh.

_Truly? How? Even if the vast majority of the Mamono didn't rape and corrupt humans, they are too close to Beasts. Helping them would be damning the humans you try so hard to protect. The Order might be the human's best hope to combat the Mamono, but they have proven to be little better than the Healing Church. Helping them win the war would simply replace one horror with another. And, as you have discovered, even this so-called "Basion Of Co-existence" is not a viable option. For, even if all the Mamono and humans could be convinced to live together like this, the majority of human men will choose Mamono's over their own kind. Propagating these neutral towns will simply slow the erasure of the human race. But it will come all the same. And you will be responsible for it._

"Even so...I..."

_CEASE THIS NONSENSE! YOU. ARE. A HUNTER! STOP HOLDING BACK! You know where the Beasts are, what they are, and how to kill them. You are the only one who CAN kill them. No more of this foolishness! EMBRACE WHAT YOU ARE!_

"I REFUSE!" the Huntress shot up from her seat, eyes burning with rage as she stared up at the ceiling, "I REFUSE TO BE THE EXECUTIONER OF A SECOND WORLD! I will not repeat the mistakes of my past. What I did to Yharnam...what I did to its people...that will NOT happen here! I am a Hunter, yes! I am a killer! I am a monster! But, I will not let that stop me. Even if I can't find a way to end this war, I will find a way to save the human race from extinction! This I swear upon my pride as a Hunter! Humanity will not die while I still draw breath!"

Silence.

The Huntress feels her heart hammer away as she waits for the voice's reply.

_...So be it._

The Huntress feels the voice sleep.

She picks the pillow up from the floor, fluffs it up, the lays it down. She lets herself almost fall onto the soft mattress beneath her.

One thought permeated her head above all others. It was three simple sentences, but they carried enough weight to make the Huntress sob into her pillow until she finally fell to sleep.

What would she do?

What should she do?

What could she do?


	24. A Love Deepens

"Kogero-san!"

Teresa jumped as Akuri sat up in her bed. The sunlight filtering through the inn room's single window highlighted the sweat dripping down the Kunoichi's face. Her raven hair fell around her shoulders and face in an unkempt mess, slightly blown to the side by the wind from the open window. Her eyes were bloodshot as her head darted around the room in a panic until she spotted Teresa closing the door behind her.

"Akuri! You're awake!" Teresa placed the tray holding cups of water and towels down on the bed to the Kunoichi's left as she moved to her friend's side.

"Lady Scarlet!" Akuri tried to push herself out of the bed, but found herself tumbling out of the sheets. Teresa caught her before she hit the floor, hugging the Kunoichi to her chest. Akuri's eyes blinked twice in confusion as she turned to look at her left side.

Then she saw the bandaged stump where her arm used to be.

And everything came rushing back to her.

Her eyes widened as a mixture of panic, fear for Kogero, and anger at the stranger filled her heart. Gritting her teeth she pushed herself out of Teresa's grasp while yelling, "Lady Scarlet! We must go! Kogero-san needs our assistance!"

"Wha-wait, wait!" Teresa shook her head as the Kunoichi started searching the room for her weapon, "What do you mean? What happened? Why were you lying in the street covered in blood and missing an arm?"

"There's no time!" Akuri answered with panic clearly in her voice, "Who knows what that monster's doing to her while we stay here! How long was I unconscious?"

"F-five days. And, what monster? Why would a Mamono-"

"It wasn't a Mamono," Akuri opened up a small chest in the southwest corner of the room, digging into it at a rapid pace.

"Then who...oh no," Teresa's face went white as a sheet as the realization dawned on her. Her hand went to her chest and gripped the leather as her breathing increased with her heartbeat. Memories of the time she was captured by that cloaked person made sweat gather on her brow.

Akuri stood up with her single blade in her hand. Its edge gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting the anger look in her eyes for Teresa to see. The Kunoichi turned to the Dhampir and gave her a quick bow, "I will not be long, my Lady. Stay here and await my return." She started heading for the door but stopped as Teresa dashed in to block the exit.

Akuri stepped back in confusion as the Dhampir shook her head in panic, "No! No! No! Don't go after her! You'll die!"

"But Kogero-san is in danger!"

"I know! But...but you can't beat her! None of us can beat her! Not even...not even my mother would stand a chance."

Akuri's step turned into a jump as she gasped in shock, "Lady Scarlet!"

Teresa hugged herself while looking away from Akuri, "If we're indeed talking about the same person then...then we can't beat her. You fought her...didn't you? You and Kogero?"

"...Yes," Akuri averted her eyes from Teresa's judging gaze, "With Corelia-san. The three of us were tasked to observe the...the monster who defeated you by my Lady. We were just meant to watch and wait...but I...I let Corelia-san's words and my own emotions get the better of me. Corelia-san got away, but Kogero-san and I were forced to fight. We outnumbered her, but soon learned we were unprepared and outmatched. In exchange for letting me go, Kogero-san stayed behind and she took my arm. But this time will be different!"

Akuri swiped her sword through the air while lifting the stump that was her left arm, "We have both faced her before, and she has never encountered anything like your mother. We can get out of this city, find Corelia-san, ask my Lady for assistance, and then all four of us can go defeat her together!"

The ninja's face was determined, but Teresa shook quickly shook her head at the prospect, "Did we even fight the same person? She's not like a normal Hero or some random warrior from the Order! There's more to her than the fact that she has no Mana. When I stabbed her with my rapier I could feel my Mana being drained from me. It's like she...like she absorbed it! How are we supposed to fight that?"

"I am..uncertain...but there must be a limit to it! Maybe if all four of us attack at once-!"

"I hit her with a Lust Spell at point blank range, Akuri. And it did nothing. Not even you and Kogero could beat her when you had her outnumbered. She's just too strong. Please," Teresa put her hands on her head and closed her eyes, "Please, just stop."

"Lady Scarlet...what happened to you?" Akuri walked forward and placed her hand on the Dhampir's shoulder. She shook the distressed girl with a mixture of frustration and worry on her face, "Why are you so afraid? This monsters nearly killed you, captured Kogero, and took my arm! How can you rationalized letting her go like that?"

"Because I don't want you to die!" Teresa's scream was loud enough to make Akuri step back. Tears made streaks down the Dhampir's face as she continued, "I don't want anyone to die! Not you, not me, not my mother, not even that stranger! She let you off with just taking your arm, but next time she'll really kill you! And I...I..." she fell to her knees and started to sob, words turning to babbling nonsense.

Akuri, floored by the sudden and swift breakdown of the daughter of her Mistress, did the one thing that she could think to do at the moment. She dropped her sword, knelt to Teresa's level, and hugged the Dhampir. Neither of them knew how long they stayed like that. Teresa sobbing into Akuri's uniform, while the Kunoichi tried to think of something to say.

Then they both heard a tiny, yet energetic voice call out, "There you are!"

They turned their eyes to the back of the room and beheld a child sized Mamono climbing through the open window. It's dark purple outfit, strange black wings, and perky appearance identified it as a Familiar. It jumped to the floor with its two back wings flapping, before dashing over to the kneeling girls. It's high pitched voice rang in their ears as it produced a scroll from thin air, "I've got a message from Corelia for a Kunoichi named Akuri! Only took me five minutes to get here, too!"

Teresa tilted her head in confusion while Akuri grabbed the letter, only to realize she couldn't open it due to her missing arm. She turned to Teresa with a pleading yet shame filled expression, handing her the letter while avoiding eye contact. Teresa took it and removed the embroidered scroll from its container before rolling it out in her hands. Her eyes scanned the message for a few moments, until she got to the end. Then she gasped in shock.

"What is it? What's happened?" Akuri asked with clear interest. Teresa looked between her friend and the smug looking Familiar, before reading the message aloud:

_Akuri, don't go after that monster yet. I've made it to Lescatie, got an audience with Druella, and told her everything. She's agreed to contact our Lady and set up a team to come assist us that she will lead personally. She just needs three weeks to prepare. You need to get over to Lescatie before then. Find out as much information on the bitch as you can. We need to find something we can use against her._

_If you can manage it, find Teresa and bring her too. I'll be waiting for you by the front gate._

_From, Corelia._

* * *

"Wow, Spencer," Valarie slowly walked towards the massive tree at the center of the public garden. Her focus kept switching from the centerpiece of the area to the various brightly colored flowers planted along the sides of the cobblestone walkways. The sun was setting in the distance, its rays lighting up the Heroine's hair as she moved from one group of flowers to another. Spencer walked to her side, getting her attention as she asked, "This place is beautiful. How'd you find out about it?"

The young mage chuckled nervously, "Oh, it wasn't hard. I just asked the stablehand if there were any interesting places around and they pointed me here." His eyes jumped around the area. There were a few other people around, but not so many that the place felt crowded. The majority were couples watching over the flowers or sitting underneath the shadow of the giant yew tree in the center. He was hoping that it would just be the two of them, but at least there weren't too many people there. He looked down at one of the flower beds and pointed towards a nearby pair of red roses, "Hey, don't your parents grow those in the garden behind their stables?"

Valarie nodded, following Spencer's gaze to the two flowers, "My father bought the seeds when he was courting my mother. He had them planted in the shape of a heart, and the two of them were wed right in the middle of the orchard when they bloomed."

"Oh yeah. I remember my father telling me about that. He said the two of them looked perfect for each other."

"They were," Valarie reached down and, careful of the thorns, plucked one of the roses. She raised it up and twirled between her fingers and thumb, "My mother would have the servants fill vases with the roses and place them all throughout our manor. I would always awaken to the sweet smell of flowers."

Spencer went quiet, content to simply admire the wistful expression on her face. He resisted the urge to sigh at the way her hair perfectly framed her features. But something changed and he saw her expression turn from happy remembrance, to frustrated anger. Thinking quickly he said aloud, "Is that why you kept a vase of roses in your room at the Cloister?"

Val's eyes turned to her friend with a nod, "Yes, but how did you know that?"

"When I would come to wake you up in the morning, I would catch a glimpse of it when you opened the door," Spencer explained, waving at a passing couple who stopped to stare at them slack jawed.

"Oh," Valarie replied before turning her attention back to the flower in her hand, "I feel I must apologize for that. A Hero such as I shouldn't be sleeping in."

He waved off his friend's apology, "No, no! It was no trouble! Certainly gave me a reason to get up in the morning. Besides getting the to training yard before everyone else. I still remember the look on Instructor Ines' face when she saw us sparring before anyone else had gotten up!"

Spencer started laughing at the humorous memory, which led to Valarie giggling along with him. They sighed before silence settled between them. Birds could be heard singing over head as they flitted among the massive tree's large branches. Eventually, Valarie broke the silence, "How do you think this garden was made? There's no other place like it in Vinvers, and the tree clearly isn't completely natural."

"My guess is one of the city council members pushed for it," Spencer shrugged with indifference.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well," Spencer walked past Valarie over to the western edge of the garden. She followed after him and the two of them gazed out over the entire city laid out before them. Placing a hand over his eyes to block the sunlight, the young mage waved a hand out over the all the buildings and miniscule people and Mamono milling about, "See? You can look at the entirety of Vinvers from here. And everyone can look up to see that tree behind us. Either way it's a breathtaking sight that would raise the citizen's spirits. They probably hired a mage who specialized in nature magic to ensure the tree grew to be as tall as it is."

Spencer's happy smile turned to slack jawed awe as he turned to look at Valarie. The edge had a small bump in it, giving them a high enough elevation for the wind to grab at her hair. Her hands were held together in front of her as the sun's rays shined on her flawless skin. "Wow," she mouthed as her big blue eyes took in the entire horizon set in front of them.

He felt his heart start beating in his chest, before he turned away. Taking five deep breaths in and out, he steeled himself for what he would do next. He reached into his robes until he felt his fingers touch two circular objects, "Hey, Val? That thing I wanted to show you? It's this..."

Taking in one more breath he turned and presented the silver arm guards to the Heroine. Her shocked gasp made him look away for a moment in worry. His heartbeat echoed in his skull as he shut his eyes and prayed that she would like it. The feeling of the armband's weight leaving his hand made him open his eyes with relief.

Valarie observed the armor in her hands with her mouth agape, "This...this is wonderful. How...when did you get this?"

"I, uh, had it custom made a few months back," Spencer felt the uneasiness in his heart lift, but not disappear as he continued, "It was a week after we fought that arachne. You took a bad hit to your arms and couldn't wield your sword for three weeks. So I...I went and asked a blacksmith to forge those for you. I made sure he made them light enough to be worn beneath your plate so..."

Valarie put the arm guards on, her eyes widening further as they snapped onto her arms with no trouble, "These are...a perfect fit. But, how did you know what size to make them?"

Spencer swallowed, scratching his cheek while chuckling, "I kinda...kinda went to the tailor and asked her what your...sizes were. Only for your armor though! I assure you!"

He spotted the beginnings of an angry frown and felt his heart stop for a moment. Then his worry disappeared as her features softened. She gave him a genuine smile that he knew he would never forget, "Thank you, Spencer. This is a wonderful gift. I'm sorry I don't have anything to give to you."

"Don't worry," he made sure to look her in the eye as he walked forward and gently took her hand in his, "Being able to be with you is better than any gift."

"Spencer...," she said as a blush came over her cheeks.

He smiled up at her before turning towards the city of Vinvers. Valarie did the same.

The two of them stood there, wind whistling through the sky, as they watched the sun set on the city below.

* * *

_**AN: I know this Chapter is shorter than the others, and has nothing to do with the Huntress. There's a reason for that, as with everything I do. I want to develop Spencer and Valarie as characters because they will play a role later for one thing. Another is that I had a part for the Huntress, but no matter what I couldn't help but feel like I was forcing it into this Chapter rather than it being a natural part of it. So, I took it out but didn't delete it. It will form the start of the next Chapter. **_


	25. A Midnight Stroll

Normally, when the Huntress attempted to sleep, one of two things would happen. Either she would enter the Dream, speak to Eve, tend the graves a bit, possibly buy more supplies from the Messengers, then return to the Waking World. Or she would simply sleep and wake up once the sun rose. This was how it had been ever since she purchased her house in Pran and began actively attempting to sleep.

But tonight was different.

Tonight her sleep was plagued by nightmares.

The sounds of her victims screaming as she bled them dry. Ghost of dead Hunters lamenting why she killed them, asking why she got to survive and they did not. The pungent smell of blood constantly filling her nostrils until she could feel bile rising in her throat. Beasts jumping from the shadows and eating her innards while she was still alive.

They were varied, but all horrid. However, one stood out among them. One where she would return home and find her children devoured by Beasts while their voices asked her why she wasn't there to save them.

That was the one that woke her up in the middle of the night. And the reason she went out for a walk through the silent city streets. The moon was in its half phase, only some light shining down on the streets below. It was dark enough that the Huntress needed to turn her hip lantern on to see a few feet in front of her.

Well, she didn't need to. Ever since her time in Yharnam her eyes had a much easier time adjusting to dark environs. Whether this was a result of having to traverse through the perpetually dark Yharnam, or another side effect of the Blood she couldn't tell. She would not doubt its usefulness, though.

Her shoes muffled her steps, so the only sound outside were the chirping of insects and hooting of owls overhead. A sigh escaped her lips as she walked down the empty streets. It felt strange to walk down a darkened street and not constantly feel on edge. To be able to trust that there wasn't a monster with the head of a dog and body of crow waiting to rip her innards out. And instead, while she knew that the city wasn't entirely safe at night, to simply walk through the street as the cool night hair blew across her skin. However, it did little to ease her worries. The things she learned yesterday were at the center of her thoughts her entire walk.

What was she to do? The fact that she wasn't fully involved with the war meant little. War saw no difference between active participants and simple bystanders. It envelops all things in its choking grasp, stifling every aspect of life from beginning to end. She couldn't simply pretend the war wasn't happening and had nothing to do with her. It would reach her sooner or later, and force her to get involved.

But how could she get involved if none of her current possible decisions sat well with her? The Mamono were a threat, that was an undeniable fact. But were they enough of one to warrant the death of their whole species? Even those who wished to remain uninvolved and live their lives in peace? What about the humans who have forged genuine relationships with Mamono? Are they to be put to the sword as well?

And what of the Order? They're meant to be humanity's defenders, yet they've shown her nothing to prove they deserve the moniker. If they were triumph over the Mamono, could it really be called a victory? Would they truly create something worth fighting for once everything was said and done?

She rounded a corner with her head hung low and hands balled into fists, until her musing was interrupted by the sound of a girlish giggle coming from behind her. She stopped walking and turned around only to see nothing save the empty cobblestone streets. She heard it again and let out a sigh of frustration. Rather than turn around once more, she called for the Messengers to bring her the Burial Blade. She knelt to the ground and gripped the familiar wooden shaft. She stood up and shouted to the air, "Whoever you are, reveal yourself! I am in no mood for games this night."

"How boring."

The Huntress' gaze shot up to the sky as he prepared herself for battle. In the skies above, was a strange woman. Her dark blue skin, pitch black tail and wings, marked her as a Mamono but the Huntress could tell she was different than any she had faced before. She wore spiky black and red gauntlets with matching greaves, while everything else was laid completely bare. She stared down at the Huntress with red glowing eyes in pools black as obsidian. One hand tapped away at her hip while the other fiddled with her tail as it snaked its way down to below her waist. She spoke with a predatory smile on her face, and a seductive tone to her voice, "What a wonderful woman you are. I'm sure you've got a body to die for underneath all those wrappings. Why not let it out for the world to see?" Her giggling was replaced by a moan as a hand went to one of her boobs and started pulling at nipple through her "bra".

"Sorry to disappoint," the Huntress said while kneeling to grab the Evelyn from the ground, "But I prefer to have protection in case I find myself in battle."

"Oh? But what good is 'protection' if it can be easily ripped away? Like so..."

The Huntress felt her instincts take over just as the Mamono snapped her fingers. She dodge rolled forward just as a tornado as large as her body appeared where she once was. She reached into her clothes and pulled out three throwing knives that she launched at her flying opponent. She didn't want to risk waking people up with the report of her gun, lest she get innocents involved in this battle.

The Mamono moved faster than the Huntress expected, landing right in front of her just as she came up from her roll. The Mamono had a clawed hand raised to strike but paused as her eyes fell on the Huntress. Then she screamed in pure terror before flying back into the sky. She strafed to the left while aiming the palm of her right hand towards the Huntress, "What was...who or what are you?! Are you the reason the Order's been sending more Heroes to Vinvers?"

"And if I am?" the Huntress didn't know what the Mamono was talking about, but there was no need to let an enemy know that. She'd act the part for now.

The Mamono sneered as purple colored fire started gathering in her outstretched palm, "Then I am sorry, but I need to stop you here! I won't let the Order harm any of the monsters in this city!"

The Huntress readied herself to dodge the oncoming attack...until she heard the telltale sound of hooves rushing down a cobblestone road behind her. Keeping the Mamono in her line of sight she slightly turned her head to look behind her. She spotted the shadowy silhouette of someone getting closer to their conflict. She got ready to yell at them to get away, until another familiar sound reached her ear.

The sound of an arrow being loosed.

The projectile whizzed over the Huntress head and directly towards the flying Mamono. The blue-skinned monsters was forced to abandon her attack and dodge to the left, right when the newcomer entered their battlefield. The Huntress' mind was filled with questions. Who was this? What were doing out this late at night? How'd they know about this battle?

However, all those questions were pushed to the side as the Huntress realized a few very important details about the newcomer.

First, that while she had a human torso, head, and arms, her entire lower half was that of an equine.

Second, that it was very clear she was a Mamono.

And last, that she was aiming her bow at the flying Mamono.

"Foul demon!" the horse girl shouted to her apparent adversary, "Leave this fine citizen alone, lest you reckon with I, Nikon, one of the three Guard Captains of Vinvers!"

...

The Huntress silently wished she had stayed in bed that night.

"Do not interfere!" the flying Mamono shouted while pointing a hand at the Huntress, flames gathering on the tips of her fingers again, "This is between me and the freak over there!" Three tiny balls of fire shot out of her fingers towards the Huntress, leaving blue streaks behind them as they flew. The Huntress waited until the last minute and dashed forward just as they hit the ground around her. They exploded into an azure conflagration, while she tossed another knife towards the Mamono. She stopped just as the flying creature flew backwards to dodge her first knife and threw the second one just as Nikon launched another arrow.

The Mamono's tail whipped around and knocked both projectiles out of the air with a clang. Her wings fold inward as she dives towards the ground. She lands far enough away from her two opponents that neither can attack her quickly enough. Hands glowing a dark pink, she slammed her arms into the cobblestones at her feet. Within moments the stones exploded forward, their forms morphing into grasping hands as they flew through the air.

Nikon withdrew the sword from the scabbard on her side, slashing the stone hands down as the got close. Meanwhile, the Huntress was charging straight towards her enemy. Any stone hand that got close was either struck down with a swipe of her scythe, or dodged passed with a single tilt of her head. The Mamono raised one of her glowing hands and waved it across the space in front of her. It left a trail black orbs in its wake that shot out, aimed directly at the Huntress. The Huntress didn't flinch as the orbs crashed against her body and exploded into purple smoke. She ran through the mist towards her opponent, her curved sword raised as she prepared to slice her opponent down.

The Mamono dashed towards her, claws out as she dodged to the left to avoid the Huntress' vertical slash and followed up with a knee to the Huntress' stomach. The Huntress grit her teeth as she fought through the pain. The monster's spaded tail wrapped itself around her left arm before she could elbow it in the face. It swept the Huntress' feet from under her, placed one hand on her chest, then forced her down to the ground...hard.

The Huntress gasped as her back hit the ground. Pain shot up her spine but she didn't lose her focus. She gripped the tail wrapped around her left arm and pulled as hard as she could. The Mamono lost its balance and fell on top of the Huntress, giving her the chance to roll the monster over and straddle her. She raised her blade to end it just as the Mamono placed both hands on her chest. The glow on the monster's hands expanded until a explosion of flame knocked the Huntress off the Mamono. She got to her feet as soon as she hit the ground, cursing as the purple flames started to burn parts of her clothes. She ripped off what she could without completely destroying her outfit and focused her attention on the Mamono.

The monster had her clawed feet spread apart and ready to strike. Then one of her pointed ears twitched and she took to the skies an arrow hit the ground where she once was. Another arrow was already on its way towards her new position, and the Huntress saw an opportunity. She reached into her slightly charred clothing and watched as the flying Mamono focused on dodging the arrows coming from the horse girl. When she spotted a clear pattern, she threw one knife and quickly followed it up with another.

Right on cue the Mamono's tail deflected the first the knife, but the second flew right passed it. She screamed in pain as the knife embedded itself in the small of her back. She froze in the air for just long enough for Nikon's next arrow to pierce through her right wing's membrane. She yelled in agony as she yanked the knife free and tried to keep herself afloat. She shot over the Huntress head and started heading deeper in the city, launching a wave of energy at the ground and sending more cobblestone hands towards the Huntress. The Huntress cut them down but lost sight of the fleeing Mamono.

Cursing under her breath she prepared to rush after her assailant, but stopped as the Guard Captain galloped to block her path. She responded by pushing past the horse woman and charging down the cobblestone road. Her eyes remained glued to the trail of red blood left behind by the flying monster. The sound of hooves hitting the stones signaled the Guard Captain galloping after her. She easily kept pace with the Huntress, quickly catching up and keeping pace with the rushing woman.

She was close enough that the Huntress could make out specific details of her attire. A green cloth, long enough to cover everything down to her waist, hung down from her shoulders. A leather gambeson guarded her chest and neck with a small circlet sitting atop her head, a white feather sticking out of the top. The lantern light reflected off her crimson locks of hair as it cascaded down her back, framing the tanned skin of her face underneath.

She looks like a completely normal girl...save the large, black equine body attached to her waist. She put the bow in her hands over her head so that the string wrapped around her upper body. The sheathe sword at her side remained still even as she moved, likely due to the studded wraps that twine around her equine half. She speaks with a sense of clear purpose, her amber eyes completely focused on the Huntress, "Halt citizen! If we are to chase after our adversary, then we mustn't rush ahead without a plan."

"Our adversary?" the Huntress doesn't slow down as she questions the Captain, her eyes focused on the direction the Mamono fled.

"Yes," Nikon turns and points towards where the Huntress is staring, "That Mamono has been sighted attempting to seduce and subvert the city guard for the past four nights. As one of their Captains, it is my sworn duty to stop her from accomplishing her task!"

The Huntress looks at her with a raised eyebrow, "What exactly do you mean by 'stop'? Is she not one of your kin?"

Nikon shoots a glare towards the Huntress, "I'd prefer you to not lump me in with her. I have been entrusted with keeping the citizens and my subordinates safe from any and all threats. Whether they be Mamono or human, if they threaten the peacefulness of this city, I will bring them down."

"...Understood. However, I suggest you leave this opponent to me. The enemy likely has the ability to corrupt those who face her. If she does so to you, then Vinvers will be in grave danger."

The blood trail led the two around corners and down alleyways, disappearing for a few moments before showing up a short distance away. The entire time, Nikon managed to keep pace with the Huntress. She moved with the grace and skill of someone who had long since come to terms with their equine half. She replied to the Huntress after they rounded their third corner, "Do not dismiss me so quickly citizen. This is not my first time dealing with her type. I will ensure it will not be the last, for either of us."

The Huntress didn't bother answering. It was clear the Guard Captain wasn't going to leave, and every second they wasted conversing was a second the Mamono was using to get farther away. Eventually, the trail ended when they made it to an intersection that split off to the west and east. The north was blocked off by a row of houses built in the shadow of Vinver's wall.

There the two of them caught sight of their quarry...as well as a man who had his trousers down with the Mamono kneeling in front of his crotch. The Huntress and Nikon managed to reach the two just when the armored man loudly moaned with pleasure as she gasped in elated surprise. As the pearl white liquid splashed onto her it seemed to slowly fade away. As it did, the wound in her wing started to mend along with the one on her back. She got to her feet as the man ran dry, patting his still hard length while speaking in a sultry voice, "I feel soooo much better now. Thank you for all your hard work."

"Anything for you, Cerci," he pulled up his pants before saluting the Mamono. His dark gambeson blended in with the surroundings with a halberd strapped to his back. He let the salute fall as he smiled at the Mamono, "We'll continue this once we get back to camp, alright my Love?"

"Why wait, Edward?" she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and drew her wings around them both, "We can continue where we left off right-"

"Stop in the name of the Vinvers City Council!" Nikon shouted while rushing forward, her bow out and ready to shoot. She got half way to the couple before skidding to a stop as she the man's dark skinned face became clear. Her head shook in disbelief as she backed away, "No...no...you're that Edward?"

"Oh, Nikon," the man stepped into the light, a wide smile on his slightly wrinkled face, "So, they gave you the position after all? I knew you'd make it. And I also know you're not the type to put posion on your weapons. I'm guessing that was your friend here who threw a poison dagger into my beloved's back?" The Huntress stepped up next to the horse girl as the older man pointed at her. She narrowed her eyes and got into a battle stance. This man may have been old for his time, she'd guess around late forties at least, but she had long since learned to not judge others by appearance alone. Her eyes focused on the Mamono who was holding him close, his right arm pressed in her bosom as she eyed the Huntress with a smug smile.

"But, why? Why would you do this?" confusion and uncertainty layered Nikon's voice, as the hands holding her bow shook, "Why would you join forces with a Demon? Let alone sleep with her?!"

Edward wrapped his hand around the Demon's waist, turned his head to hers, and brought her in for a kiss. The Huntress' teeth grit as she observed the couple making out in front of them. There was a good chance that if she struck at the Demon she'd end up killing the human instead. Something she wanted to avoid right now. What if he had been seduced or brainwashed? The last thing she wanted to do at the moment was kill an innocent man who had been coerced through corruption. She glanced at Nikon and saw that the horse girl had one hand over her heart. Her eyes were focused on the ground while the other squeezed her bow until it shook in her grip.

When their lips finally parted, Edward answered Nikon's question, "Why else? Because I love her. I've been searching for a wife ever since I left the Guard, but I've found no one. Until I met Circe here."

"That's right, honey," the Demon giggled, slowly separating from the older man while keeping her tail wrapped around his arm, "We met while he was out exploring the woods near the West Gate. Made love on top of a field of roses. We've been together for three years."

"That still doesn't explain why. You must know she's trying to undermine the Guard, right?"

"Of course. I'm helping her do it."

"What?" Nikon's hand dropped her bow and went to her blade as Edward took out his halberd. He held it in one hand as blue lightning crackled across the silver weapon, lighting up the area around his feet. Circe followed suit, her claws extending while purple fire engulfed her hands.

The wind blew the older man's white hair out as he bowed to the two of them, "That's right. And don't worry. I'll make sure to explain everything to the two of you once you've been pacified. Ready, my Love?"

"Always," twin firebolts flew from the Demon's hands towards the Huntress and Nikon. Nikon, still shocked at her predecessor's admission, didn't notice until it was too late. The bolt hit her square in the chest as she drew her blade, sending her to the ground in a heap. In contrast the Huntress easily knocked hers out of the air with the flat of her blade. She prepared to charge the Mamono, but was forced to hop back to dodge a sweep from Edward's halberd. The man pulled his weapon back and started stabbing away at the Huntress with speed matching hers. His polearm left afterimages bolts of lightning in its wake, sending the Huntress farther and farther back. The Huntress stopped backing up when a shadow fell over her from behind.

She rolled to the right just when a stone hand as big as her body closed its fingers. She got to her feet only for Edward to leap at her with his halberd held high. Metal struck metal as her Burial Blade came up to block the man's downward swing. Lightning worked its way down her blade, guard, then up her arm. She grunted as the shock lanced through her body, but didn't fall. I wasn't nearly as bad as what she went through fighting the Darkbeast.

Edward raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Impressive," he said before pulling his weapon back and sending a back kick towards the Huntress. She blocked the blow with her knee and struck out with the flat of her blade, only for her attack to blocked by a cobblestone column that had risen from the ground.

"Most normal people would've been brought to their knees by that last strike. Are you, perhaps, a Hero as well?" Edward ventured as the Huntress dodged two purple fireballs from Circe.

She didn't answer the man, choosing to keep her focus on both of her targets. Her opponents were not only skilled, but knew how to work in tandem. Edward made each of his attacks wider and wider, each time getting better at hitting the Huntress even if she dodged. He managed to get in a good hit while she was avoiding three cobblestone hands. She tried to block the horizontal slash with Evelyn, but the gun wasn't thick enough to block the entire strike. She winced as the edge of the polearm's head sliced through her armor. She felt the familiar warmth of blood flowing down her arm as lightning lanced into her body. The shock flowed through her body, until she pushed the older man back...just when a stone fist came up from the ground and punched her in the stomach.

The wind fled from her lungs as she skid backwards on her feet. She forced herself to remain standing as the two started to advance on her. Edward's face was a mask of impassivity, while the Demon had a smug grin plastered across her face.

'Damn it. I need to do something about that Hero. If I could just get him away from the Mamono...'

"Edward!" the old man turned around as the horse girl crashed into him. He was sent flying through the air, but landed on his feet right when Nikon caught up to him. The center of her gambeson had been fried by the firebolt leaving her bare breasts shaking in the night air. But she didn't seem to mind as she launched a number of furious swings at the older man. He blocked the majority of the strikes but a few did manage to pierce his guard and leave cuts on his arms. Though no blood was drawn, it was clear he was being pressed.

"Edward! Hold on! I'm-fuck!" the Demon jumped back as the Huntress blade came crashing down where she once stood. She struck again, but this time the Demon grabbed the blade between her hands and held it there, her knees buckling at the effort.

"Circe!" Edward tried to disengage, but Nikon blocked his attempted. He sneered with clear anger, "Move, Nikon! My Love is in danger!"

"Tell me why!" Nikon ignored his cry as her sword came down. He blocked it with his halberd's shaft as the centaur continued to yell, "Why are you doing this!? Why did you betray the Guard!? Betray Vinvers?! Betray the City!?"

"To save it!" Nikon's head turned to Circe as the Demon dodge rolled away from the Huntress' blade, "Haven't you noticed the Order's sending more and more of their Agents to this city? They're planning something big here, and we've been trying to find out what!"

"I didn't ask you, Demon!" Circe rolled her eyes as she narrowly avoided the Huntress cutting off her tail. She conjured a wall of stone and sent it at the Huntress, who dashed to the side to avoid it.

"She speaks the truth, Nikon," the centaur's eyes widened in shock as Edward confirmed what the Mamono said, "I've been gathering information for months now. Based on my findings, the Order's planning to purge this city of all Monsters and Monster Sympathizers. That includes the City Council and the Guard."

Nikon felt the strength leave her arms as she stepped away from her friend, "Bu-but-but that can't be. We've welcomed the Order with open arms as long as they don't cause any trouble."

"And you thought they would keep to that agreement? You still have much to learn when it comes to dealing with those charlatans" Edward shook his head, then held his hand out to the centaur with a smile, "Listen, I don't want to fight you. I want to work with you to stop this. We've got an entire group of Mamono camped a day's ride away from the city, ready to move in and help defend the people. Just lay down your arms, come with me, and we can find a way to save Vinvers."

"Listen to him, Guard Captain. Isn't it your duty to defend the citizens of this city? Human and Mamono?" Circe took to the skies to avoid the Huntress, but didn't retaliate. Her focus was completely on Nikon as the centaur's eyes shifted from Edward's face to his hand. The centaur's hooves clopped out a rhythm on the cobblestone road. Her face was flushed and her heart was beating in her chest. Her gaze lingered on the old Hero's hand. The same hand that had taught her how to wield a blade. The same one that helped her get into the Guard when she was but a filly. The same hand that had entrusted this position to her.

The hand she knew she could trust.

She nodded then reached her hand out to take his-

"And what about after?"

-Then stopped as the Huntress' voice cut through the silence like a knife. All eyes turned to stare at the black clothed woman who looked between the flying Mamono and the human Hero. She spoke again, "Let's say that what you say is true. What happens after the Order is dealt with? Will you Mamono leave the city and populace alone?"

Nikon turned to the Huntress, shock written all over her face, "How could you ask that? Of course they-"

"Of course not."

Nikon felt her heart sink. She slowly turned to stare at the flying Mamono. Her words came out as a whisper, "What did you say?"

Circe crossed her arms and spoke with a matter of face tone, "It's obvious that if we leave the city after the Order is dealt with, they'll simply send another force to do the job instead. Thus our forces will stay in Vinvers, and it will officially join the Demon Lord's Army. You're all living with Mamono already, I don't see why you don't just fully join us."

"Because the people here don't want to get involved in the war! They want to live in peace! Both the humans and the Mamono!" Nikon shouted at the Demon.

"Ha ha ha ha ha!" the Demon's laugh made Nikon's hands clench into fists. Circe twirled in the sky with her arms spread out to encompass the whole city, "Look around you! Humans are much happier when they're with Mamono or turned into one. Just look at me and my Husband! Our life together has been nothing but absolute bliss ever since we met each other. And we want to share this feeling with the rest of the city!"

"And if they don't want that forced on them?"

"They'll come around to liking it eventually."

Nikon backed up while shaking her head at the evil grin on the Mamono's face, "No, no, no. Edward! You can't honestly...," her words died in her throat as she beheld her former mentor's face.

Not only was he nodding his head along with what Circe said, but he was smiling as he did it.

Nikon's hands went to her head as she fell to the ground. A scream began to rip its way through her throat...but went silent when a loud crack hit her eardrums.

She turned to see the Huntress, standing there completely still, with smoke rising from the tip barrel of her gun.

Circe blinked twice.

Then she felt a pain spreading out from the center of her chest.

She put a hand to her cleavage and felt a warm liquid reach her palm. When she brought her hand to her eyes, she realized that it was blood.

Her blood.

"Wh-wha...," her body went cold as her eyes closed. Her wings stopped flapping and she fell to the street below.

"CIRCE!" Edward was a blur as he ran to stop his beloved's fall. Lightning encased his body, making his hair stand up and glow with a white hot intensity. The air around him screamed, scorch marks appearing on the street as he shot towards his falling wife's body. He snarled when the Huntress stepped into his path, holding his halberd out to stab straight through her, "YOU MONSTER! YOU'LL DIE FOR-"

He lost track of what happened after that.

One minute, he was charging straight at the murderer that had killed the love of his life.

Then what he could only describe as a large chunk of iron with finger holes in it slammed into his face. He heard his skull crack as his forward momentum collided with the iron weapon. There was a brief moment where he felt his skull fragments impact his brain. Then he couldn't feel anything anymore.

He was dead before he hit the road.

His halberd flew down the street, clanging against the stones when it hit the ground. The Huntress let her arm fall before walking over to the Demon's fallen body. It remained completely still, crimson blood pooling around it and seeping into the cobblestones below. She had landed on her back, wings clearly broken from the fall while her arms and legs were bent at odd angles.

Nikon watched with clear awe as the Huntress grabbed the corpse's hair with her left hand.

The centaur realized what she was doing too late.

She resisted the urge to vomit as the Demon's head came off in a shower of blood. The Huntress let the severed head drop to the ground in a bloody heap. Then, without a word, she walked away from the carnage. Nikon's eyes followed the black clothed woman as she disappeared into the night. And as the citizens in the homes around her slowly woke up to check out the sound, she slowly reconciled everything that had happened.

Within the span of one night, she had discovered her former mentor had betrayed the city. That he was trying to save it from the Order by teaming up with Mamono. That said Mamono would not only remain in the city but force it to join the Demon Lord's forces, which her former mentor was completely fine with. That the Order was possibly planning a city wide purge of Vinvers. And she had witnessed the death of her former mentor, along with a Mamono. Both cut down by a black clad figure who spoke little but behaved like a trained killer.

...

...It didn't take long for the sobbing to start.

* * *

"Eve."

The Doll turned to see the Huntress entering the Workshop. She stood up and bowed in greeting, "Welcome home, Good Hunter."

The Huntress made a bee line to the chair in the Workshop. A heavy, stressful sigh escaped her lips before she said, "I need your advice."

The Huntress waved for Eve to stand in front of her. The Doll obliged, moving to kneel in front of the sitting Hunter. She looked up at the Master Of The Dream with an innocence that could never be found in the waking world, "As you wish, Good Hunter. I shall endeavor to answer you to the best of my ability."

The Huntress nodded, then went silent. For five minutes the only sound in the room was the crackling of the wood in the fireplace and the moaning of the Messengers outside.

Then, the Huntress spoke:

"You find yourself in a new world. You find it is in peril, but know you can drastically alter its course. You have found three ways to accomplish this. None of them lead to favorable outcome. What would you do?"


End file.
